


I Thought I'd Never Find You

by wirewrappedlily



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Stardust (2007), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Soulbond, Author is a madwoman, Immortal Husbands, M/M, a stardust AU, don't ask just read it, have i done my own head in in writing this?, questionable magical realism, tenuous grasp on monarchy politics, why yes yes i have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24044533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wirewrappedlily/pseuds/wirewrappedlily
Summary: A philosopher once asked: Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?Pointless, really.Do the stars gaze back?Now,that'sa question.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Isabelle Lightwood & Aline Penhallow, Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Lorenzo Rey/Andrew Underhill, Magnus Bane & Isabelle Lightwood, Magnus Bane & Maryse Lightwood, Magnus Bane & Ragnor Fell, Magnus Bane & Simon Lewis, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Camille Belcourt (mentioned), Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	I Thought I'd Never Find You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [giidas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/giidas/gifts).



A philosopher once asked: Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human? 

Pointless, really. 

Do the stars gaze back? 

Now, _that's_ a question. 

Our story begins over one-hundred years ago, at the Royal Academy of Science in London, England; where a letter arrived containing a very strange inquiry. It had come from a country boy, and the scientist who read it thought that it might be a practical joke of some kind. But, he duly wrote a reply, politely explaining that the query was nonsense. He posted it to the boy, who lived in a village called Wall. So named, the boy had said, for the wall that ran alongside it.

A wall that, according to local folklore, hid an extraordinary secret. 

"I'm charged with guarding the portal to another world," snarled the wizened old man who had been a wizened old man even when the boy had been a babe, "and you're asking me to _just let you through?!_ "

The increase in volume was something of a surprise to the boy, who would think that the old man wouldn't be capable of drawing a breath that deep. Despite this, the boy paused, blinking in the expectation of more. When none was forthcoming, he leaned forwards slightly, speaking as clearly and reasonably as he could, "Yes. Because, let's be honest, it's a field." The boy took a step, putting a hand on the old man's rickety shoulder and pointing into the distance of field spread out behind the gap in the wall. "Do you see another world out there? No. Because it's a field. Do you see anything non-human? No. And you know why? Because _it's a field!_ " 

The outburst at the end wasn't buying him points, he knew, but he had to stand by it. "Hundreds of years this wall has been here. Hundreds of years, this gap has been under twenty-four hour guard--" 

"Well--" 

" _One more word_ and I will have you up in front of the village council!" 

The boy paused, his dark eyes shifting back and forth as he took a deep breath, "Well, then...That sounds fine. I'll just go home, then, I suppose." 

The boy barely heard the old man wish him goodnight and bid him to give his best to his father; the second the old man's back was turned, the boy took off running for the gap in the wall, the piteous cry of "stop!" in his wake of little consequence.

The boy did not stop. The boy ran into the field, and began a course of events that would change the world beyond the wall forever. 

~

Magnus Bane had been delivered to the old man who guarded the wall one night, five years after the boy--who the old man realized must be Magnus's father--had managed to get past him. 

The young master Bane still had tears drying on his cheeks from the death of his mother. The old man trudged through the darkened streets of Wall, knowing that Magnus's father had died shortly after returning from his adventure--and knowing that there was only one other place to take the orphan. 

Rapping on the door of the only other soul to have crossed through the gap in the wall, Magnus Bane was delivered to Ragnor Fell, the snowdrop that his father had returned home with tucked into his small hands, and the strange, golden cat's eyes that he had arrived with hidden at last behind a mirror of his father's dark brown. 

~

Fifteen years passed, and the child Magnus grew up, knowing nothing of his unconventional heritage save a distant memory of a woman with kind, brown eyes sending him along to the man he could not help but think of as his father. 

But this is not the story about a boy living a quiet country life in the village that was all he could remember; this is the story of how that boy became a man taking control of his life and his destiny. A much greater challenge altogether. For, to achieve it, he must first win the heart of his one, true love. 

"Don't forget the flowers!" Ragnor's grumpy orders sounded through the little cottage in which Magnus had grown up, and Magnus's near-laughing reply was utterly fond of the older man. 

Pushing into the night, Magnus looked up to the sky for the barest of moments; to the star shining so brightly in the heavens that even without a moon, Magnus knew he could always find his way by its light. 

There was a part of Magnus, ever since he was a child first stumbling through the streets of Wall, that had always loved that sky. And though he was expected to carry on the path of his adoptive father, and run the shop which Ragnor had inherited from the closest thing Ragnor would speak of to family, Magnus had also always wanted, in some strange way, to travel that sky. 

With the snowdrop in his lapel, Magnus walked the dirt roads of Wall towards the house of the woman he loved, Camille Belcourt. He knew in part that she would more likely than not have her cadre of girls with her, but Magnus refused to allow that to deter him, not for a moment. 

Catching up a pebble, Magnus aimed easily at the window of his beloved, and it was only when Camille excitedly called, "Simon!" That he allowed even a piece of his confidence to waver. 

Simon Lewis was the son of the richest man in the entire county; in line for the throne of England, though he was rather far down in the line. Simon was a good man--Magnus and he had even been friends as boys, before Simon's father had forbidden an association with the orphan boy in the little village. It was no surprise, really, that Camille, as lovely as she was, would expect the suitor at her window to be rather more than a shopkeeper. 

"Uh, no...it's--it's Magnus." The white wildflowers in Magnus's hand were nowhere near good enough, now, though Magnus had picked them for the simple thought that it was the sentiment they represented that counted, not the grandeur of the blooms. 

Magnus had been in love with Camille since their childhood; and there were times when he almost thought that she could love him in return. Camille had had dalliances; flirted with most every boy that caught some idle fancy, but she always eventually came back to him, smiling her beautiful smile in the shop. 

That night would not be one of the nights that Camille would reward his quiet steadfastness, and Magnus's flowers were bashed from his hand with the arrival of Lorenzo Rey, another of the suitors Camille toyed with. Where Simon and Magnus were at the very least friendly, Lorenzo could not be bothered with the basest line of cordiality, and Magnus suspected that Camille delighted in watching Lorenzo antagonize him for being the orphan boy of a village outcast, raised by a man who, even if he were to live a hundred years more in this village, would still and always remain an outsider to it. 

Magnus was forthright, as Ragnor had always encouraged him to be, and so when Lorenzo challenged him to a play of a sword-fight, Magnus knew that though he was likely to end up once again on the ground under the tip of Lorenzo's cane, he also would not give up trying, just once, to earn a bit of honour for beating him at his game. 

~

In the kingdom of Edom, King Asmodeus languished in his deathbed, abjectly disappointed in his four remaining sons for continuing to number four. 

"Of the seven sons I had, there are four of you still standing today. This is quite a break with tradition. I had twelve brothers, and--" 

"And you killed them all for your throne before your father, the king, even felt poorly." Septemus--or, as he preferred, Valentine--recited easily, only barely managing not to sound bored with the old story deriding the failings of his elder brothers. He had been the last-born; he'd already killed more than his fair share, in his estimation, but was also very willing, if it meant the throne, to kill the rest as well. "You're strong and courageous." 

Asmodeus recognized this bloodlust, and managed a small smile in recognition of this trait. Of all his sons, he would have laid money that Septemus would have been the one to best fit the throne. 

He was well-aware that each of his children had chosen names of their own at some point; it held with tradition in their family, or so the story went.

"And cunning. Most importantly, cunning." Asmodeus added to the list of virtues Septemus had given him--and, by inference, himself. "Secondus." 

"Yes, father?" The tone of voice spoke of the assumption that succession, even by dint of failure, would fall to him, and Asmodeus hated his second son all the more ardently. 

"Look through the window, and tell me what you see." 

The imbecile, because cunning had not proved to be prevalent in any of his sons, only his daughter, wandered towards the balcony windows, looking over their kingdom. "I see the kingdom, father. The whole of Edom."  
�"And?" Asmodeus prompted, resigned to the lack of perception that had his second son missing the look of contempt he made little attempt to hide. 

"My kingdom?" 

The wheedling tone was the final nail in Secondus's coffin, "Maybe...Look up." The look Asmodeus shared with Septemus was only barely a comfort. For as bloodthirsty, and rightfully so, that Septemus was; he was always better at following orders than flouting them for his own ends. 

The scream of Asmodeus's second son was heard throughout the castle as Septemus shoved his brother from the edge of the balcony, the abyss into which he tumbled menacingly dark. It was of little comfort to Asmodeus that, as he burst into wheezing laughter at his son's demise, Septemus felt Tertius creeping up behind him to repeat the act and caught him before he could. 

What none of the living could sense was the chorus of ghosts standing at the head of their father's bed, each of them trapped appearing as they had last looked before death; and each of them giggling at Secondus's death just as gleefully as Asmodeus did. 

_"Secondus!"_ they greeted in the customary unison of those long-dead enough to have gotten to know each other rather well with no one else to talk to. Being trapped, without anyone else to hear them, had more than likely addled their minds enough that they all began to rather think the same way. 

_"Sextus! Quartus! Quintus! You're alive!"_ The shock of his voice was only somewhat muffled by the fact that half of his face had pretty much caved in on itself in the impact, and his brothers looked at him with something akin to pity before they shook their heads. _"Oh...you're, uh..."_

Sextus rolled his eyes, such as he could having been more than half-burned before he'd finally perished, _"Stuck like this until the new king is crowned."_

Secondus let out as close to a groan as he could, _"I was_ that close _!"_

Quartus smirked such as his frozen facial muscles would allow. _"At least you haven't lost your looks."_

Secondus tried to roll the eye that was still visible, but it did not work as well as it had when there were two of them. _"Oh, tell me you're not still mad about that whole murder thing! I mean, it was_ ten years _ago!"_

 _"Mmm, yes. Great lot of good it did you, killing me, Secondus, because now, of course, you are king of all of Edom! Oh, wait, sorry. No, you're not. You're_ dead _!"_

"Una?" Asmodeus was slipping, the living and the dead of the room could all feel it now. Asmodeus's lost daughter; the only princess of Edom, had been the only child that Asmodeus had ever wanted to protect. 

"N-No, father. It's me...your _son_ , Tertius?" 

Asmodeus's ruined face fell, the disappointment such that Tertius could write it off for being the loss of his sister, not simply the failure of his son. "Where is your sister?" 

"I'm sorry, father," Primus murmured gently, "no one has seen Una for years now." 

They had looked; though perhaps not has hard as they had ought to. 

Asmodeus looked at the three remaining sons, knowing that the bloodlust in Septemus had always been untameable. "Septemus..." The scold of his voice was almost playful in its recognition of a kindred soul in wanton bloodshed, if not in the illusive art of cunning. 

"What?" 

"Tradition dictates that the throne must go to a male heir." 

For as rabid as all of them viewed Septemus, none of the brothers entertained the idea that he would have laid hands on Una--on Maryse, as she had chosen to be named; as even Asmodeus had taken to calling her, before she had disappeared, and her name was spoken less and less in their halls. Maryse had always been far too canny for anyone to get close to; too wary by half for her disappearance to come as anything less than a complete shock. 

"Exactly, father," Septemus answered with familiar charm, "so why would I kill my sister while these cretins are still alive?" 

Asmodeus was smiling, but he didn't much feel like it, despite the near-fondness he had for his seventh son. "Indeed. Therefore, we shall have to resolve this situation in a non-traditional manner." Asmodeus gathered what little magic he had left within him, feeble as he took a necklace from his neck, the ruby at the end the size of a child's fist. His magic managed, however sluggishly, to drain the ruby of its colour, the necklace coming to float from his grip, "Only he of imperial heritage can restore the ruby." Asmodeus intoned as his life-force began to wane under the current of the magic he imbued into the gem, "And he who does so will be the new king of Edom." 

The jewel rose in the air as Asmodeus succumbed to the decay of age, his sons heedless of this, as they ought to be. The three remaining heirs were on tenterhooks, just waiting to reach out and grab for the necklace as it rose further; but before any of their desperate grabs could prove fruitful, the jewel launched itself beyond their reach--and then beyond the reach of anything, into the night's sky beyond, only to impact with a star, and send both ruby and star tumbling down to Earth below. 

~

In his barely-garnered assignation with Camille in a bower of candlelight and delicacies for a picnic, Magnus watched as a star fell from the heavens; the champagne he had brought already sour in his stomach at her talk of a ring bought from Ipswich and her intentions to finally marry another. 

His promises to cross the wall and bring Camille back the star as a bid for her hand in marriage had fallen from his lips as if there were someone else making them. Magnus found, when he really thought of it, that crossing the wall--despite how completely it was simply Not Done--was an urge that he now could not fight. 

That the 96-year-old guard of the gap could apparently turn into a ninja when Magnus tried the same trick his father had used was just as surprising to Magnus as it was to the stars still looking in the direction their fellow had fallen. 

Ragnor found Magnus at the kitchen table, holding a piece of meat to his eye, the coolness trying to counter-act the swelling. 

"There's a story I ought to tell you, Magnus. About your parents." Ragnor sighed. "Your father jumped the wall years ago, you know that much. He brought me back with him that same night. 

"The place on the other side of the wall is called Edom, Magnus. It is full of magic and treachery, and ruled by a...a monster, named Asmodeus. The story he tells is that his forebears united the wild lands full of magic that make up what is now Edom. The truth...is something else entirely." Ragnor sucked in a deep breath, moving to take down a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "Asmodeus was once one of the most powerful magic users of all. You must understand; those with magic live a long, long time. Longer than history will be able to remember the true story to a thing. Asmodeus, once he had _united_ ," the way Ragnor spat the word told Magnus all he need know about his thoughts on that, "Edom, Asmodeus waited a time, before he began killing off those who could remember. His power was waning, you see. There's only so much magic that one can use before the well of power within begins to eat away at your very life-force. Asmodeus had run into that limit, and knew he could not use any more. 

"But if he could not use his magic, he could not afford to allow those who could use theirs to survive; to pose a threat to his power." Ragnor looked at Magnus, whose eyes were distant with imagining the story he told. "There are still magic-users in Edom. But many of them are too young to know any differently about the bloodshed that Asmodeus has maintained was caused by war between magic users; war he claims to have stopped." 

"You ran." Magnus surmised, and Ragnor nodded. 

"And hid. I cannot travel any farther from the wall than this village, because here there is just enough magic bleeding through that I will not die. I keep the mark of my magic and the magic itself hidden at all times, because if I were to reveal it, I believe Asmodeus may finish what he started, and may even try to take this world for himself, too." 

"My father--" 

"He saved my life. That one night he ran over the wall, he saved my life. And it cost him his, ultimately. The fever that took him was an infection from the wound he suffered in saving my life. He brought me here, because it was the safest place he could think of." Ragnor steeled himself, holding up a staying hand to the boy he considered his son, "Stay here a moment." 

The bundle was in bright blue fabric, the finery of it catching at his hands as he brought it down to the boy who had carried it over the barrier of the wall. 

"You brought this with you, the night you came to me." Ragnor laid it on the table, and sat back as Magnus quickly grabbed up the letter that had been addressed to him, the jet black candle that it was wrapped around settling on the table with a thud that sounded only to Ragnor like a threat. 

_'My dear Magnus,_

_I am sending you over the wall in the hopes that it will save your life, young one._

_A part of me hopes that you will not remember me; that you will prove young enough to have forgotten, but if you cannot, then I must tell you why, though I love you, I have sent you away._

_Your mother was dear to me, Magnus. She showed me more kindness than I can tell you, and so though we are not blood, I do consider you my son, too. So why would a loving mother send her son away?_

_To save him._

_You cannot live this life that your mother and I were both trapped into; it will be the death of you, and your mother knew that well enough that she was willing to give her life to try to save yours--'_

"She stabbed herself." Magnus murmured through numb lips. "She stabbed herself...and the man that she had been talking to--he tried to grab me. He...he burned." 

Ragnor did not tell Magnus that more than likely, Magnus was the one who'd burned him. That his mother's powers were used to dampen the signature of magic that the witch who had captured her left behind. Ragnor did not tell Magnus that he had powers at all, because if Magnus was truly about to cross the wall, he was better to do so not knowing that the snowdrop Magnus always had on-hand--a match to the one that hid Ragnor--was imbued with his mother's power of dampening, enough that they could both pass for human. The temptation to use magic on the other side, Ragnor thought, would be too great. 

Magnus turned back to the letter, tears in his eyes blurring the looping, distinguished scrawl on the page. 

_'--It is my greatest hope that you do not remember the struggle and pain of this time you have spent with us; that you move, find happiness, and forget. But, if you can't, I've packed for you a way to come back; to come see me, if you choose to. The fastest way to travel is by candlelight. Light the candle, and think of me and only me._

_I will think of you always._

_All my love,  
Maryse'_

"Maryse..." Magnus breathed, his hands shaking slightly, "I--I called her mama." 

"I cannot tell you the right or wrong choice here, Magnus. I know that if it was up to your mother; up to Maryse, you would stay far away from Edom. You could use your candle to see her again; to let her know that you're whole and hale. Or, you could use the candle to go to the star, retrieve it, and fulfill her wishes--move on, and live a happy life here, safe." 

Magnus drew a slow breath, "I...I want to see Maryse again. I want to meet her, to know her." 

Ragnor nodded once, drawing a match from his pocket, and offering it to Magnus in silence. 

It was only natural in the upheaval of Magnus's thoughts, then, that when he touched the match to the wick, the promises he'd made to Camille surfaced without his meaning them to. 

~

In the crater of his landing, the star known as Alexander came-to slowly, the chill of a wind he'd never felt before tousling through his dark brown hair. Looking up, Alexander could see, beyond the edges of the crater he'd made, the other stars winking down at him, beckoning him home. 

Groaning, Alexander sat up, looking over the scorched rock of his landing to see the thing that had knocked him from his place in the heavens down to the Earth he had so loved to look down upon. 

The necklace was heavy as he grasped it with his fingertips, and with a curl of resentment towards it, Alexander put it around his neck before he struggled to his feet. 

The wind whipped through the silver silk of his clothes, and Alexander shuddered, realizing this was what it meant to be cold. 

Alexander's leg had gotten injured in his crash-landing, though he knew enough to know that it wasn't broken, just hurt badly enough that walking was difficult. Looking around the edges of his crater, Alexander nearly panicked when a bright light began falling towards him; the fear that another of his siblings had fallen with him choking for a moment. 

Unfortunately, it was a long enough moment that the ball of light, and the man within it, collided with his chest and sent him sprawling over the rough gravel of the crater. 

It was something of a miracle that the impact didn't break Alexander's ribs, but he could feel the scrape of the gravel over his skin, the bloom of pain causing him to shout. 

"You...are not Maryse." Magnus managed, the impact having knocked the breath from his lungs. His eyes widened when it connected for him that he was laying on top of a beautiful stranger, and he rolled off of Alexander immediately. "Oh, sorry...sorry. Are you alright?" 

"No, I'm not Maryse, and I'm not alright!" Alexander snapped, the fear that strangled him blazing into rage. 

"Do you need some help?" Magnus offered once he'd stood. 

"You can help by leaving me alone!" Alexander snapped, managing to get onto his elbows and looking down at his injured leg, trying to tell if it really was broken now. 

"O-Of course, I'm so sorry." Magnus backed away, confusion written plainly on his face as he looked around at the crater he found himself in. The realization that, for as hard as he had been thinking of Maryse, his mind had strayed to Camille and the deal he had made was a shock. The crater in which they stood had to be where the star had fallen, but Magnus could not see any sign of the glowing rock he expected to find, likely still-hot from its descent. 

"What are you looking for?" Alexander growled, and Magnus looked up from searching around the burned rock. 

"I...sorry, this may seem strange, but have you--have you seen a fallen star anywhere?" 

Alexander pasted on a smile that did nothing to leaven the murder in his eyes, "You're funny." 

"No, really! This is the crater--it must have fallen here!" 

Alexander squinted at the man crouched before him, seriously wondering if this human was actually that moronic or if he was being toyed with. Considering what he had observed of humans, Alexander decided to assume it was the moronic angle. "Yes, it is where it fell. Or, if you want to be more specific," Alexander pointed to his spot in the heavens, sitting empty now, "up there is where this weird fucking necklace came out of nowhere and knocked in out of the heavens when it was minding its own business; over there is where it landed. And here...this is where it got hit by a _magical flying idiot_." 

Had Alexander known the term, he would, quite easily, have been able to define the face that Magnus made as "gobsmacked". "You're the star? You're the _star_?!" At the unimpressed look Alexander shot him, Magnus blushed, "I...sorry, I just--I didn't expect you to be, uh...human-shaped." 

Alexander sighed, but some of his anger cooled in the face of this earnestness, "Yes, well...I'm sorry I'm taking my anger out on you. I have to assume you aren't actually the one that knocked me down here." 

Magnus's features twisted in worry, "You--are you hurt?" 

Alexander took another deep breath, "My leg...I don't think it's broken, but..." Magnus gestured to the leg Alexander was holding carefully straight, and Alexander nodded. 

"May I look?" Magnus asked softly, the gentleness in his voice easing Alexander even further. "I'm no doctor, but I was a clumsy child...I have some experience with injury." 

Alexander nodded slowly, and Magnus carefully drew up the silver robe, exposing Alexander's leg until he saw the inflammation just below Alexander's knee. 

Magnus drew a breath, looking around them. The air was chilled, but not chilled enough for his touch to be cold, which he knew would be something of a relief to the inflammation even as he examined it; but there was no way to chill his own hands any further. "I'm going to feel the area, if that's okay. I want to make absolutely sure it's not broken." 

"O-Okay," Alexander stuttered, nervous now for the pain. 

It didn't come; Magnus's touch was gentle and careful, and as Magnus urged Alexander to move his leg, the pressure of his touch wasn't enough to send the pain screaming, though it did protest. "You were standing when I hit you, correct?" Alexander nodded, and Magnus looked pensively down at the leg again. "I can't feel anything wrong with the bone, so you're right that it's not a break. I can't do anything for it without some supplies, though, and to get those, we'd need to get out of the crater. Do you think you'd be able to walk if you were to lean on me?" 

Alexander blinked, considering, "I think so? What...what would you do to my leg?" 

"It needs cool to stop swelling, and you'd do well with some willow bark for the pain. If we can find a willow tree, I can make something for it; and if we were to find a stream, we could put a compress on it." 

Alexander bit his lip, his brows pulled together, "Why...why do you want to help me?" 

Magnus looked slightly bashful, but this was not the time to lie. "I...Where I'm from, it's said that fallen stars are lumps of rock. I told my--my love, Camille, that I would collect...well, you, as a token of my affection. To win her hand." 

Alexander's brows cocked upwards, "And instead you get an injured man to present to her." 

"You're beautiful enough that she'd probably prefer you to me, even if you don't have a title." Magnus blurted, and the look of shock and horror that spread over his face was the only thing that kept Alexander from pushing more about that. 

Alexander knew that there were few options to someone alone, and injured. He also knew that there was no chance he would ever be able to find a way to return to his home. And the kindness in Magnus's face made him want to know more about the man before him. "So, what's your plan? If I were to go with you, and let you...present me to your Camille? What then?" 

Magnus startled slightly, reaching to his pocket and drawing out the stub of the candle that had gotten him here. "I was told...the quickest way to travel is by candlelight." 

Alexander's hazel eyes lit on the candle, his brows raising, "You have a Babylon candle. That..." Alexander's eyebrows dropped, brow furrowing in consideration, "that could actually work. If I agree...to go with you, you would let me use that--to try to go home?" 

"I..." Magnus wanted to tell the man that he would use it right now for him to go home, but at the same time, he could not bring himself to. "Yes. At the very least, I should help you get your injury taken care of. Or is it common for stars to have a limp?" 

Alexander hiccoughed a laugh, shaking his head, "No...usually, when we get injured, it's badly enough that we--we go out." 

Magnus's face crumpled. "When...when you're up there, do you--well, do you look like this? Or is there another scale for knowing if trying to return you up there won't mean you--" 

"It's...not something that can be explained, I don't think. Something you have to see, experience, in order to understand. But no, there is no telling if this would be bad enough that in going back, I would be able to keep my place." Alexander narrowed his eyes, not suspicious, but curious, Magnus thought, "So you'd help me, even though I'm not...a lump of rock." 

Magnus shrugged a shoulder, "It's the right thing to do." 

Taking Magnus's offered hands, Alexander let Magnus help him up, the slightly shorter man fitting well enough under his arm on the side of the injury and supporting him with apparent ease. "My name is Alexander, by the way." 

Magnus couldn't help but laugh, realizing the faux pas of forgetting to introduce themselves, "Pleasure to meet you, Alexander. I'm Magnus Bane." 

~

Valentine walked with Tertius--if Valentine wasn't mistaken, Tertius had chosen the name Reginald for himself, which was another mark in the list of reasons why he would not prove to be the next king of Edom--towards the anteroom in which his father's coffin lay. The blowhard of a bishop could be heard, and a cruel part of Valentine would delight in watching the man's professed hopes of a benevolent king in Primus be dashed. 

"I don't doubt Edom would be a better place under your rule." 

"Really?" Valentine demanded, striding into the room with Tertius scurrying beside him. "Oh my, that's fascinating! Don't you think, Tertius?" 

Tertius snivelled his agreement, and the desperate attempt to backpedal was written clear as day on the bishop's face. "Prince Septemus! Tertius! Well, well..." it did not go unnoticed, even though Valentine did not _care_ that even the fool of a bishop did not address Tertius as a prince; so lowly was his brother regarded that most of the time even the servants could not be arsed to show any respect, "I--uh. Ah! Since you're all here, won't you join me in a toast?"

Primus rose from his place kneeling at the side of Asmodeus's coffin as the servant bearing wine walked in. "What a very good idea." 

Each of them took a glass, the bishop casting his dark eyes on their gathering before offering, "To the new king of Edom; whichever of you fine fellows it might be." 

They drank, and the bishop was the first to drop; much to Valentine's disappointment. He had hoped to see the man's dreams dashed with him alive to watch it, but it was of little matter that one of his brothers had drunk from the wrong cup. It was just a matter of which brother would prove to have been spared. 

Ultimately, it took Tertius long enough to die that Valentine felt like toying with Primus, as any good youngest brother would do to the eldest. 

"You!" Valentine pantomimed choking quite well, if he did say so himself, and Primus looked stricken--the soft-hearted old fool--as he dramatically fell to the ground. Valentine watched the glint of greed in Primus's eyes finally begin to take hold, his gnarled hands reaching for the crown as the last heir--and then he couldn't stop himself from laughing for any longer. "You really thought that you were king!" 

Valentine swung to his feet as his brother put the crown back on its pillow, the look of disappointment on his face bringing a whole fresh wave of joy to Valentine's heart. Primus's blue eyes traveled from the slumped form of the bishop to glare as menacingly as he was capable at Valentine. "You killed the bishop."

"No, brother dear, I think you'll find that _you_ killed the bishop, by drinking from the wrong cup. And, look, Primus, when you're finished wrestling with your conscience, may I suggest that you return to your chamber? Leave finding the stone to _me_." 

Primus, or as he preferred to be called, Raphael, strode from the antechamber, picking up speed as his stomach grew leaden and sick with the drive to finally see an end to the history of bloodshed his family could lay claim to. He had heard rumour, more than once, that Asmodeus had always been the king of Edom; that there had never been twelve brothers for him to murder to clear his path to his throne. Only twelve leaders of the creatures that had once been abundant: vampire, weres, fae, witch, warlock, and seelie. Warlocks--those with inherent and natural power--had been hunted nearly to extinction; too dangerous to be allowed to roam free. That was how they had lost Maryse. Witches were tolerated; the magic they had pulled from what was around them, rather from some vast well of power within. The limits that placed were absolute. The weres had mostly succumbed to in-fighting, if the rumour was to be believed; and the vampires, the fae, and the seelies had fled. 

Primus didn't know what was the truth, or what was whisper amongst the people growing increasingly more desperate to cling to the way of life that was dying around them. But he did know that allowing his brother the throne would only spell the end of Edom all the sooner. 

It was with this in mind that Primus stormed the dank halls towards their deepest and most hellish dungeons. 

If he was being truthful, it had been him to order the capture of the man he sought out now. Maryse's most-trusted man; her personal guard. The one who was meant to have saved her. For as much as all six of the remaining brothers had understood that Maryse had gone on her final hunt for a warlock on her own, as her guard had been struck with fever, Primus could not stop himself from wanting vengeance for the failure in any case. 

"Andrew Underhill." The phantom chained before Primus did not so much as twitch, but Primus knew well, from the hours he had spent berating the man in this cell between bouts of the physical torture that he so hated to partake in, that Underhill could hear him very well. "I will grant you your freedom, if you help me win the crown." 

~

It was slow going, and even if Magnus still truly entertained the idea of presenting the fallen star, such as he was, to Camille, he seriously doubted they would have made it back in time for her two-week deadline. 

Alexander wasn't comfortable accepting his help walking for very long, but the pain in his leg, Magnus could tell, was growing. They'd yet to come across any tree or plant Magnus could use to try to make a painkiller; finding a stream and making a cool compress had helped, but Magnus knew that if they didn't keep moving--didn't find shelter somewhere--they would be in dire straits. 

"So you think you're going the right way because you 'just do'?" 

For as snotty as the words were, their inflection was not the cruel twist Magnus was more used to being addressed by; more a curiosity. "I've...always had a head for directions. We're headed--we're headed North; the wall, and my home, is North. If you look up at the sky, even during the day--" Magnus cut off as he looked up finally, and the star he was looking for wasn't there. "Even in the day, you should see the evening star..." 

"Hmmm," now this had a slight edge of mockery to it, and Magnus's gaze snapped back to the man he travelled with. 

" _You're_ the evening star?! That was you!" 

Alexander limped towards a comfortable-looking tree, groaning as he lowered himself to sit at its base. 

"We really need to make it to the next village to eat and-and rest..." Magnus reminded Alexander gently, moving to crouch before him. 

"I'm sorry. It's just--It's midday. I'm never up this late. Just...please, I need to sleep." Alexander was visibly struggling, and Magnus knew that he had no other choice. 

They had yet to run into anyone else; and though Magnus had heard stories of highwaymen and bandits in forests like the one they were in now, he had also heard stories of fallen stars being shining rock, not tall, handsome men. "Okay...I should find us food. But I don't want to leave you without--" 

"I can protect myself, Magnus, even like this." Alexander told him. 

Magnus nodded, pursing his lips even as he did. "For my peace of mind? Take this." Magnus held out the small knife he carried by the blade so that Alexander could take the handle; little more than a letter opener, when it came to it, but sharp for how much Magnus used it and how well he took care of it. 

Alexander reached for it hesitantly, "Thank you." 

"If...If you don't mind me asking...How do you know you can protect yourself, if you've never been injured before?" 

"The stars aren't just there to look pretty or to tell the direction by, Magnus. We stand against the things that use darkness to try to destroy the worlds. When I told you I don't know if I could keep my place up there with this injury, it's because this injury will slow me down; not because it's bad enough that I'd immediately go out. But the things that my siblings and I battle? Those are much worse than the bandits you spoke of earlier." 

Magnus was unsteady as he rose, the idea of a battle like that one left him shaken to his core. Hesitating, Magnus swallowed as he cast his gaze over Alexander cradled in the base of the tree, "Are you cold?"

Alexander licked his lips, but shook his head. "I'm okay, thank you." 

"I'll go find us something to eat. See if I can't find something to make a tincture for your leg, too. Rest well, Alexander." 

"Magnus...thank you." 

Magnus nodded, offering a small smile before he left. 

Magnus could, if he were the type to, blame what happened next on the distraction he had fallen into in thinking of Alexander, and how on earth he could possibly help a star in the greater battle for good an evil that Alexander would be going back to. 

Alexander leant his head back against the tree, trying to avoid looking up at the sky. His siblings were strong, and he had taught them well. The worry that was making him restless despite his head clouding with fatigue and his stomach growing heavy with unaccustomed nausea from being over-tired could not be abated with what platitudes he could give himself. He missed his siblings, badly, and if one of them went out because he was not there to protect them, he did not know just what he would do. 

Finally, Alexander's closed eyes bore the fruit of sleep. 

It was dark when he woke; and the light of his siblings above him was enough to draw his gaze. There was no sign of Magnus, and Alexander felt a twist of worry; but he steeled himself with the knowledge he had long-gleaned that humans often lie, and rarely performed acts of kindness such as the one Magnus had promised him. 

Alexander heard rustling around him, and the worry instantly swamped him once more. Magnus, by his own admission, was not much of a fighter; and he had given the only blade he carried to Alexander to try to defend himself should the need arise. Alexander struggled to his feet, the pain of his leg lessened slightly from the lack of use as he'd slept, but still bad enough that Alexander knew he would not make it for long on his own. 

Alexander knew his senses were keener than those of any human, particularly at night, and he held the blade low at his side, hiding it as best he could with the silken robes he had. 

The rustling came once again, and Alexander turned his back to it, as if he couldn't tell where it was coming from; what threat it posed. He waited until the creature had fully emerged before turning. He could almost hear his siblings snickering above him as a unicorn shyly approached him. 

"Seriously? I mean, I know I'm virginial, but c'mon!" Alexander bitched, sighing. He reached out to the unicorn, and it eagerly moved into his hand. Unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes, Alexander drew closer to it, "Will you help me track down the man I was travelling with?" It was not what he'd intended to ask, but still, "I'm worried about him." 

The unicorn whinnied, lowering its head, and Alexander took that for agreement, climbing up onto its back. 

The ride was not long, really; and Alexander tried very hard, when they drew close to the inn, to make himself feel anger for Magnus's apparent abandonment; but he couldn't summon anything past his concern. 

"Here?" Alexander asked confirmation from the unicorn, and frowned at himself for it, because, really, he knew better. 

Climbing from the unicorn's back, Alexander was immediately back on high-alert, only made worse as the sky above the inn suddenly clouded, and cracked open with rain. 

The door swung open, the woman standing there beautiful in a way that drew Alexander's hackles up further, because something was...off, and if even he could tell, there was a problem. 

"Come in, come in, out of the wretched rain!" The woman urged, her razor-straight black hair tied up in what one could mistake for a working woman's knot. "We have food and drink, a warm bed, and plenty of hot water for a bath." Alexander hesitated only a moment as the unicorn let out another small whinny, but stepped through; if Magnus was in there, and Alexander couldn't see proof of his abandonment, then Alexander was inclined to believe that the threat he felt tickling at the back of his mind was very real. 

Magnus was not sitting at the bar being run by a goatish man with a constant scowl; and as Alexander cast his eyes around, he noted that there was only one door closed upstairs. The woman went to the cauldron over the fire, a copper tub standing in wait. 

"How do you like your bath? Warm, hot, or boil a lobster?" 

Alexander sat in the indicated seat, slipping the small blade to rest along his forearm. "I...honestly, I don't know." 

"Well then, let me decide for you, my dear. And I'll have my husband take your horse to the stable. Are you injured?" 

"Y-Yes. My leg was hurt." Alexander kept the woman's strange-looking daughter in his periphery, uncomfortable with the way the girl was staring at her own breasts. 

"We'll see if we can't take care of that for you." Her kind smile sat wrongly on her face, and Alexander worked very hard not to let his tension show. "Let's get you out of your wet things." 

Alexander stood, the daughter dutifully stepping forward, and as he was disrobed, Alexander was only thankful that the woman had had the daughter perform the task, as the distraction of her own breasts was great enough that it was child's play to hide the small knife he still held. 

The warm water felt good, he would admit, but as he settled into it, he felt a prickle of magic against his skin, the feel of it somehow _wrong_ , though he had never felt magic like that before. "There, better?" 

"Yes, thank you." 

"The power of a nice, hot bath. And your leg? Any improvement?" 

Alexander shifted his leg, and when he found it suddenly uninjured his shock and gratitude managed to override his weariness for the barest of moments. "That's amazing!" 

"The least I could do, my dear." The woman purred, her hand stroking down the line of Alexander's arm, her touch pricking back at his uneasiness. "Now, I may just be an innkeeper's wife, but I have been told I have healing hands. Once you're done your bath, would you like a massage?" 

"Wh--What's a massage?" Alexander knew already that he did not want her touching him more, but a part of him wondered if he hadn't been wrong about humans; first Magnus, now the kindness of this woman. Maybe Magnus had fallen asleep as well, in this inn? His absence did not have to mean that he was in danger, did it? 

The gobsmacked look sat differently on her face than it did on Magnus's, and Alexander didn't like it. "Never had a massage? We'll have to rectify that." 

With another creeping smile, the woman stepped aside for her daughter to hold out a terrycloth bathrobe to him. Alexander settled into the thicker fabric, casting his gaze back to the closed door. "You wouldn't have happened to see another man today? Almost my height, black hair?" Dark brown eyes, golden skin...

The beat of hesitation was all Alexander needed to hear the lie, "Oh, no. You're the first customer we've had today." 

The door upstairs blew off its hinges, the body that had slammed into it just barely stopping before he tumbled over the side of the loft railing, and Alexander had the knife out, his back to the wall, immediately. 

"NO!" The woman shrieked, her voice suddenly inhuman. 

"Alexander!" Magnus shouted. He leapt from the balcony onto the mantle of the fireplace, then landed next to Alexander, his shirt bloodied, face bruised, and dried blood in his hair. 

"Magnus." Alexander reached for his hand, and ran for a door the second their grip was met. Copper-coloured flame erupted before them, cutting them off, and Magnus pulled them in the opposite direction, towards a window, only for flame to push them back where they had been, by the fireplace and bath. 

"The burning, golden heart of a star at peace is so much better than your frightened little heart. Still, better that than no heart at all." The woman approached them slowly through the flames, brandishing a glass knife. 

Magnus had put himself between the woman and Alexander, his eyes skating around the room to find a way out. He did not want to use the candle; but it was the only option they had left, and he just hoped Alexander would come to forgive him. "Alexander, hold me tight and think of home." 

Alexander's arms wrapped around Magnus, strong and sure, and Magnus thrust his hand into the flames, yelling in expected pain that never came as the flames licked at his hand and the candle gripped within. He thought of his home, sure now that it was the only thing he could think about. 

When they landed on a raincloud, still clutching each other, it was immediately apparent what had happened. "Fuck!" 

Alexander barked a laugh, squinting at Magnus through the downpour, "I thought of my home, and you thought of yours, and now we're halfway between the two." Alexander wasn't angry, could only summon relief as the blood was washed off Magnus's skin, from his hair. "What happened?" 

"I found a prince of the realm, Primus. He had a carriage and four black horses--I convinced him to take me on as an extra hand in the hopes of tricking him to going towards you." Magnus shrugged, "We found the inn when it was just dark, and I couldn't convince the prince to go further. She slit his throat, but...but she looked at me and demanded to know who I was, why she didn't know me." Magnus gestured to his face and his chest, "She didn't like my answers. I think your approach is what stopped her from-from killing me. Instead, she just knocked me out and locked me in that room." 

There were five burned holes in Magnus's shirt, as if five fingers wreathed in flame had pressed into his flesh, and Alexander couldn't stop himself from pulling Magnus into a tight hug once more. 

It was at that moment that a net dropped on their heads, and dragged them through the cloud on which they'd stood. 

Landing hard on the deck of a flying ship, Magnus let out a groan of pain that had Alexander suddenly, viciously angry. Men in heavy coats and goggles bent over them on all sides, but they parted for another to come closer, and Alexander's rage left him in a rush. "Captain Serpens! Looks like we caught ourselves a little something extra! Coupl'a lightning-marshals." 

Alexander had never expected to see her again, and it was only the murderous look she was giving him that stopped him from saying a word. "They don't look like lightning marshals to me." 

The man took off his goggles once more, squinting at them. "Well, why else would someone be up here in the middle of a bloody storm?!" 

The frown that pulled the captain's full, red lips down was overwrought, and Alexander almost laughed. "Why else would anyone be up here in this storm, hm? Let's think... **Maybe for the same godforsaken reason we are**!" The roar of the last was enough to get over the wind of the storm to the whole of the gathered crew, and Magnus tensed in Alexander's lax embrace. "Now, who are you?" 

Magnus looked over at Alexander, but didn't speak when Alexander didn't, and Alexander hoped he was the only one there who could read the captain well enough to know that her tiny smirk signalled that he had read her right, even after all these years. 

"Let's see if a night in our lovely brig will loosen their lips. Get 'em in the brig!" 

Out of the driving rain, the chill of being in wet clothes, this high above ground was foremost, and Alexander leaned his back into Magnus's when he felt Magnus shivering. They were tied back-to-back, the small knife taken away, not that Alexander thought they would come to need it. 

"You know, it's funny. I used to want to have an adventure. I envied the people who did." Magnus admitted. "Shopboy like me...I never could have imagined an adventure this big in order to have wished for it, and now it'll kill me." 

"I won't let that happen, Magnus." Alexander murmured, "I used to...I used to watch people go on adventures, when I could. Up there...we don't have adventures like that. For the most part, we stand sentinel. And I--well, you know I never moved." 

"Never faltered." Magnus sighed. 

Alexander twisted his hand in its bindings against Magnus's so that he could slot his fingers along Magnus's, giving a small squeeze, "If there's one thing I've learned in all my time watching earth, Magnus, it's that people are not what they may seem...There are shopboys, and there are boys who work in shops for the time being. And you, Magnus, are no shopboy. You saved my life. Thank you." 

Magnus squeezed back, then snickered slightly, shaking his head, "I thought I'd just find some lump of celestial rock, take it home, and that would be that. Maybe I could finally find a place in the village, and actually be accepted." 

"And instead you got me," Alexander's voice bled with his amusement, "and a chance to have an adventure bigger than you'd bargained for." 

~

Underhill watched Septemus standing over the body of his brother, the look of vicious victory on his face turning Underhill's stomach. Beside him, the unicorn that had brought the man that had distracted that evil bitch from killing the boy Primus had picked up with them. Underhill had not set foot in the inn, and it was only when he'd seen the magic the woman had started to use, and recognized it for warlock craft, that he'd known how important hiding would prove to be. Primus was dead, and that was a balm, after a fashion. The boy he had tried to save; had broken into the room in which the evil bitch had stashed him, and urged him to flee out of the window. But the boy had heard the voice of the man that the unicorn had brought, and all the boy's thoughts of fleeing had vanished. 

Now, hunkered in the treeline with the unicorn, Underhill watched Septemus realize that he had still yet to find the stone they were after to prove their claim to the throne, brothers dead or not, and it sent a vicious hope through Underhill that Septemus never would find that stone. 

"Hello, Lucian." Underhill didn't have to turn to greet the werewolf he could sense standing behind him. 

It had been a secret that Maryse had been all too happy to keep from her family, that Underhill was not entirely human. Their companionship had been based on mutual trust; and when Underhill had been put under the wire to save her, had revealed that he had more power than he let on, she had just smiled at him, winked, and kept it to herself. She had started to work with him in the resistance; ferrying to safety the creatures that her father would have seen her slaughter, until she was the one leading the resistance against Asmodeus. 

"Underhill, we thought you were dead." 

Now, Underhill turned; knowing how bad he looked from the way Lucian took an unsteady step back. "I might as well have been." 

"You were her second. We've done what little we could, not having reliable information from the inside--what's first?" Lucian asked, standing taller as he pledged an allegiance to the man before him. 

"We find the stone, and make sure Septemus does not lay his hands on it." 

~

"Tell me about Camille?" Alexander asked, the dawned day not yet pulling at him the way it had the day before. 

"I...She's beautiful. A-And...she was never cruel to me. Like the others were." 

Alexander's brows furrowed slightly. Magnus had told him a little about the village he had grown up in, and for all intents and purposes, Alexander had not and continued to remain rather unwilling to set foot in such a rotten place, Babylon candle be damned. 

"She smiles at me, but doesn't--doesn't laugh at me. And she never joined in, when the others would...would talk about my parents." 

Alexander could hear from Magnus's voice that he was coming to realize something that caused him pain; and Alexander had hated to catch sight of the stories like the one Magnus was painting him: hated to see someone love someone who showed them the first bit of tolerance, because inevitably, their love was only a manipulation. 

"You came to bring her the fallen star to prove your love for her, right?" Alexander asked, looking over his shoulder. "What is she doing to prove her love for you?" 

He had hoped that there would be an answer to that question. "You'd...You'd understand, if you met her. If we don't get murdered by pirates." 

Alexander grinned, "Ah, yes. Heart torn out and eaten; murdered by pirates; or meeting Camille. I can't decide which one sounds more fun." 

The door to the brig burst open then, and Captain Serpens gave a smile as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. She walked over to the window, opening it, and Alexander kept his eyes on her, taking in the regalia of a pirate queen. "So!" She projected her voice, and Alexander understood immediately that there was a show they were putting on. "This is the part where you tell me who you are and what you're doing here, or I'll snap your fingers one by one like dry twigs!" 

Sniggering from the other side of the door was audible even to Magnus, who had gone tense behind him, and Alexander realized that he had neglected to let Magnus in on the fact that he knew this pirate. "My name is Alexander Evenstar," Alexander began, "this is my...husband--" 

She telegraphed the motion, and Alexander knew that there was likely at least one eye trying to peak through the keyhole, so he made it look good as they play-acted a hard slap across the face. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she shook her hand out, and Alexander almost laughed: she'd hit her own hand too hard, the slap of her hands together for the pantomime of hitting him ringing out loudly enough that his ear was ringing, and Magnus renewed his struggling with the bonds in earnest. 

"Don't you dare touch him again--" Magnus snarled before Alexander could do anything to reassure him that it was alright, and Alexander watched the captain roll her eyes dramatically. 

"Or you'll _what_?" She demanded, voice dripping venom as she drew Magnus's own blade and held it to his throat, Alexander letting out a yell of protest; no longer so sure that the captain was playacting with Magnus as much as she was with Alexander. 

On the other side of the door the hurried cries of "on the deck, on the deck now" sent those listening in scurrying. 

The crew made it on deck just in time to see their captain toss a man out of the opened window, scurrying back from the edge when she twisted to glare up at them; and when the doors banged open to Alexander's cries of anguish, they gathered once more, letting out a snarl in unison that had Alexander on his feet from the struggle he'd started as the captain had begun to drag him to her quarters. 

"I'm taking this one to my cabin--and mark my words, anyone who disturbs me for the next few hours will get the same treatment," she growled. 

The blonde pirate--her second-in-command--stopped, looking confused. "What, you'll--" 

"I'll throw you over the side of the ship, too!" 

With that, the captain threw Alexander through the doors to her quarters and slammed the door behind them. Jace, her second, stepped in front of the doors to the gathering of pirates still lingering. "You heard her. Captain's busy, so should you be." 

Slamming the locks into place on the door, the captain let out a sigh before turning and grinning at Alexander and Magnus, who stood in his skivvies at the window. "So...that went well, I thought." 

Alexander burst into laughter, pulling his sister into a tight hug. "Gods, Isabelle, I missed you." 

They both glowed slightly at the joy of reuniting, and Magnus set down the binoculars he was holding, looking confused but happy for them. 

"Magnus, this is my sister, Isabelle, of the constellation Serpens." Alexander introduced. "Izzy, this is Magnus, he's been helping me..." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Magnus." Isabelle reached out to shake his hand. "Thank you for taking care of my big brother for me." 

"Of-Of course." Magnus answered, nodding. "I-I'm sorry, but just...I can't believe your crew fell for that. Where the hell did you get that mannequin?" 

Isabelle grinned, shrugging with her eyebrows just as much as she did her shoulders, and they moved towards the table in the centre of the room. "It works every time. An ounce of bargaining; a pinch of trickery, a soupcon of intimidation. Et voila, a towering reputation without ever having to actually spill one drop of blood." 

Alexander laughed at her smirk, shaking his head. Of all his siblings, Isabelle had been his favourite, he would admit. She had been fierce and deadly, but she had also hated having to be. Unlike most, she had chosen to fall, rather than being knocked from the sky, and he had lost track of her--and feared the worst--for centuries. 

"I still don't...understand how they won't recognize me." 

"Magnus, dear, when I'm done, your own family wouldn't recognize you." Isabelle waved the concern away. "Now, come with me, and tell me everything while I work. We have two hours before we make port, and we need you ready by then." 

Magnus took Isabelle's offered hand, letting her lead him towards a walk-in closet and the rows of clothes within. 

"Alec, I never thought you'd be one to fall, what happened?" Isabelle asked as she plucked out a brightly-coloured silk shirt, pulling a pair of leather pants from her collection as well, and a long coat of velvet of the same colour of the detailing on the shirt, handing the pile to Magnus. "And get your ass in here, you're wearing a bathrobe, for fuck's sake, this is unacceptable." 

"I got hit by this." Alexander answered her question, fingering the heavy necklace, and Magnus turned, his eyes narrowed. 

"I think...that that might be what the prince was looking for? He said something about a stone." 

Alexander hummed, and when Isabelle didn't pick clothes for him, he cocked a brow at her. 

"You are a grown-up, hermano. Pick your own damn clothes. They'll change size to fit." Isabelle ordered, focusing on Magnus as he pulled on the clothes. "Hm, no. Lose those skivvies. You need something better." 

Magnus began to follow her orders without thinking about it, and Alexander's breath caught as he caught sight of Magnus's shoulders, his back, as the skivvies were undone. Looking away quickly, Alexander blinked, and tried to think of anything else but how Magnus had felt in his arms. 

"So you got taken out by a necklace, hermano? Really?" She managed to make her voice drip with disappointment, and Alexander sighed. 

"I was a little busy." Alexander grit. 

Isabelle hummed, and Alexander turned back around to see Magnus standing in the brightly-coloured silk, tucked into the leather pants. The fastenings of the shirt were undone, leaving it open, and Alexander's mouth watered at the idea of putting his mouth on Magnus's golden skin. 

Alexander didn't really look as he selected his own garments, but as he shucked the bathrobe, he caught a glimpse of Magnus staring at him in the reflection of the mirror he stood in front of, and his skin tingled at the look in Magnus's eyes, even if he couldn't name it. 

"Mm, hair. We need to do something about your hair." Isabelle hummed, rubbing a lock of the short, black strands between her fingers. 

Magnus followed as Isabelle tugged him towards a chair, draping a cape over his shoulders and producing several things that neither man could hope to identify. 

"Oof, there's blood in your hair--but I don't see a wound..." Isabelle sounded confused, her long fingernails scratching lightly over Magnus's scalp as she combed her fingers through it. 

Alexander took a good look at Magnus, realizing that the bruises on his face were gone, too. 

"I...I feel better, too." Magnus admitted, tucking the snowdrop into the lapel of the new jacket idly. 

"Hm. I'll have to rinse your hair out before I can do anything else. Come with me." Isabelle murmured, her gaze trained only on Alexander as she played with Magnus's hair. 

The muscle jumping in Alexander's jaw told her a great many things, but Magnus's breath catching as he took in Alexander's clothing choices told her a great many more, and she smirked in satisfaction. She may have fallen to find love centuries before, but Alexander managed to have found it in days, and wasn't that just typical?

"How did you end up becoming...Captain Serpens?" Magnus asked quietly, easily obedient as she had him bend to wash the remaining blood from his hair. 

"Well, when I fell, I was found by a man known as Captain Shakespeare. He was a sweet old man. And he knew what I was...wanted to protect me. He taught me how to hide what I am, and then how to be the same kind of captain he was. He's retired, now. I think he crossed the wall and went to live in London." Isabelle's mouth quirked in consideration, trying to remember how much time had passed and whether the old man would still be alive. "In any case, I inherited the ship from him, and stay ready to do for others as he did for me. The reputation as ruthless marauder and cold-blooded killer helps." 

Isabelle sat Magnus back in the chair, running her hands through the short strands once more, and frowning, squinting a little in an attempt to try to picture what she wanted for this man who'd managed to catch her brother's eye. Under her hand, the strands grew, and she smirked even as the flowers in the corner wilted under the pull of energy from them into his hair. A bit of witchery she'd picked up, and always worth it. 

"What's your favourite colour?" Isabelle asked Magnus, a grin teasing at her lips. 

"Blue." It did not go unnoticed to Isabelle that that happened to be the colour of the shirt Alexander had picked; a dark, midnight blue that almost reminded, Isabelle had figure, the both of them of home. 

Isabelle hummed, taking up her scissors and getting to work. "So, Magnus, what brought you to helping my dear brother?" 

"I, uh...I promised the woman I loved that I would bring her the fallen star to win her hand in marriage. I--I'm from the other side of the wall, the stories are that fallen stars are just...rocks." 

Isabelle tensed at the mention of a woman, but the past-tense gave her a sliver of hope, and she narrowed her eyes before flicking her gaze to her brother, who was beginning to look a little worse for wear with fatigue. "Alec, go have a nap until we make port. I'll take care of Magnus, you don't have to stand guard." 

Alexander frowned, but looked over at the couch to which she'd nodded; the crash of his adrenaline stores running dry. 

"So, you'd go over the wall and collect a fallen star for this woman...I take it she has other suitors, that you have to try so hard to win her hand?" 

"I don't know that Simon Lewis is actually interested, so much as his parents are pressuring him to find a beautiful bride and continue the line. But Lorenzo Rey is apparently going to Ipswich for a ring." 

Isabelle snorted, "And why are you entertaining the suit of a woman with _two_ other men on the line?" 

Magnus's jaw worked, the pain in his face evident. "Because if I can marry well enough...maybe they won't hate me for being the bastard orphan whose father crossed the wall." 

Isabelle paused, laying a hand on Magnus's shoulder, "Why would you want to be accepted by people you clearly don't actually want to be like? You have shown kindness to a star, Magnus, instead of using Alec for your own gain. The cruelty of hating you like that...no one who truly wanted to be like those around him would continue to be kind, in the face of something like that." 

On the couch Isabelle had banished him to, half-asleep, Alexander smiled. 

~

It had been disastrous, her failure to successfully capture the star. 

In the carriage stolen from the so-called prince, Lilith seethed; the magic she'd used to create the inn, and to burn it, sending her hair once again falling out in chunks. 

The star had been too tense to get even a glimmer from him, and that would prove to be an even bigger problem than finding him again once he'd stopped being airborne. 

The matter of an actual fucking _prince_ being on her trail was something else entirely. She had let Asmodeus take the throne under the proviso that he leave her and her sisters in peace; the four of them happy to become the last remaining warlocks, if Asmodeus could manage it. He had liked siphoning off the power the other warlocks had into his own well; the word that he'd finally run dry--had finally died under the weight of his use, with no heart of a star to replenish him now--that had been delicious. 

But she had sworn a blood oath with him: her blood protected, and his in return. If she broke it and killed a prince who was actually his blood, she and her sisters would suffer, even with Asmodeus in the ground where he belonged. 

The war that had gotten Asmodeus the throne had been clever, even she would give him that. He'd had his brothers tie themselves to the leaders of the tribes of the supernatural creatures that walked the earth still; battling against the humans for the parcel of land they would be able to keep as their own, held separate. The warlocks could feed from the innate power of the creature the warlock was tied to--and when the war was done, and it came time to split the land between them, Asmodeus killed each of the warlocks, which killed the one they had been bound to in turn, until Asmodeus and she had been the only two to remain, warlocks fit for the throne. 

If she had thought for even a moment that he would not have happily killed her for her power, she may have entertained his proposal to rule together. As it was, she had two sisters to contend with, even for how she hated them, and had no intention on tying herself to anyone besides them. She had too much power for him to truly rest well, though; and he was too bloodthirsty for her to think he wouldn't try something at some point. So they had agreed: Lilith and her sisters got the castle of the High Warlock, the shared title as the queens of the warlocks, and Asmodeus would rule Edom proper on his own. 

As queen, she should have known every warlock born in the realm; she should have, by rights, been granted the allegiance of them all. But that boy in the inn, the one who had come with the son Asmodeus had claimed as his first-born but was not his blood, he was a warlock unknown to her. And, possibly, unknown to himself. 

Snapping at the horses with a whip of her magic, Lilith huffed, sitting back in the carriage and just hoping that the warlock boy wouldn't end up with the star's heart before she could.

~

Alexander nearly fell overboard when they returned from the port to the ship and he caught his first look of Magnus leaning against a bundle of cargo. 

Isabelle had ringed both of their eyes in khol to help with the brightness of the sun for Alexander, and apparently to give Alexander a coronary in catching sight of just how beautiful Magnus looked with it on. She had cut Magnus's hair short on the sides until it was almost a fuzz, but the length on the top she had spiked up, and shot through with bright blue. 

Alexander caught it as Jace rolled his eyes so hard that Alexander worried he might break something, but Isabelle didn't, and the crew just shrugged off her lie, clearly not actually buying it, though they seemed to enjoy playing along to an extent. 

"Alright, you lazy dogs!" Jace shouted to the crew, "Let's get Magnus on his way home!" 

Magnus sauntered forwards, the swing of his hips confident and tempting. "You look good, Magnus." Alexander managed, his cheeks heating. 

Magnus smiled, "As do you, Alexander." 

"Now, I believe you mentioned something about learning how to fight?" Isabelle stepped up, cocking a brow. Magnus cast a wary eye around at the crew and she shook her head, "I said you're my nephew, Magnus. They're not going to think anything of it--they've seen me in a fight." 

"Shouldn't it be Alexander teaching me, though?" Magnus asked. 

"You are similar heights, but you're going to have to learn a different style to what Alec uses. You move too much like a dancer for his methods to suit you well." Isabelle glanced back and forth between them, then shrugged, "But it's your choice." 

Over the next few days, Alexander, Isabelle, and Magnus fell in step together; Magnus and Alexander's stolen glances only getting all the worse as time wore on, and Isabelle had to wonder what was holding them back. Magnus learned how to fight and how to dance at the same time, and was an absolute natural at the ballet-like moves it took for some of the martial arts Isabelle had picked up and slap-shod together. Sword training with Jace went much faster than any of them expected once an actual, proper sword with all the weight behind it was put into Magnus's hand. The measly sticks he had used in his play-duels with Lorenzo had been ungainly, Magnus learned, and what he'd wanted to do with them was not what they were capable of; but a real sword had him improving greatly. 

The crew dropped the pretense of the act fairly quickly, and so they were on the deck to teach Alexander how to dance, the crew gathered around the edges of the dance floor to watch. 

As his attempts became smoother, Isabelle could see his glow growing, but the quick glance around at her crew told her that though they'd noticed, they were not about to demand that she sell him out for the kind of payday a star would provide. Only Magnus seemed not to have noticed, his small smile unchanged as he watched them. 

"You've been glowing more brightly every day, hermano." Isabelle whispered, "Our emotions give us away: if you intend to go with Magnus truly, you need to try to control them." Alexander's brows furrowed, the glow abruptly vanished with a flood of concern. 

"What is it I'm supposed to control?" Alexander asked, deadly serious, and his performance of the steps suffered for it. "How am I supposed to control it, anyway--what do stars do best?" 

"Certainly not the waltz." Isabelle teased as he tripped slightly, and Magnus's hand on her shoulder stopped them, his gesture to cut in easy and Isabelle slipped away for Magnus to take her place, Alexander still leading. His concern melted at the sight of Magnus, and when Magnus took his hand, Alexander's glow grew once again. She had never seen her brother as happy as he seemed to be in walking Magnus through the steps, and when they switched leading, her breath caught as Alexander very easily fell into following. 

He was in love with Magnus. And anyone with eyes, whether they worked or not, could tell that Magnus loved him back. Isabelle took up a spot beside Jace, and they shared a look. 

"Boss, not to...question your methods, but I think those two might need a bit more of a push." 

Isabelle snorted, shaking her head fondly. "You're probably right." 

Magnus lead Alexander through a graceful twirl, beaming as Alexander giggled. "You...are not half-bad." 

"Well, I can only hope to be able to keep up with you," Alexander replied, and took the lead once more, the confidence smoothing the rough edges of his skills. 

"You don't have to keep up with me. I'd rather take my time along with you." Magnus's soft voice had Alexander's heart stuttering in his chest, his smile as bright as his glow. 

~

Underhill was banking on the fact that Septemus had never bothered to notice him as he slid into place in the group of men Septemus had brought with him on his hunt. Primus had been smart in choosing to only travel with him; his loyalty had been bought, after all, and it was easier to take out one traitor than a group of them. 

Not even the other men noticed; all too busy worrying about their own lives to trifle with a face that was both unfamiliar and not. 

Underhill had sent Lucian to gather as much intel as he could about the woman wearing the stone; a star, if the redheaded farm boy Septemus had kidnapped from the wreckage of the inn could be believed. The very idea of an immortal Septemus turned Underhill's stomach, and the desperation of their need to make sure that he could not claim the throne grew to a feverish pitch. 

Ferdy, the double-dealing collection of slime that he was, had purchased lightning from a pirate that, rumour had it, had a beautiful new addition to the crew. Beautiful enough, the redhead believed, to be the star. As such, they stood in his ramshackle shop, the crowding of its wares too dense for comfort as the man wheezed, squawked, and clucked--apparently unable to speak. Underhill had seen similar warlock magic; though usually the victim could not make a sound at all. Would it not have drawn undue attention of a raging psychopath, Underhill would have spoken up about the curse that had been laid down, suggested a way to get information regardless. 

The runes from the soothsayer Primus had paid off and Septemus had subsequently murdered had gotten them this far, but they needed information if they were to reach the star before the warlock the redhead had tried to escape from them five times already in order to avoid. 

Septemus's ire boiled over as the animal noises continued despite his threat, and Ferdy's dying squawk was pitiful. Septemus turned from the slaughtered man, brandishing his dagger for Underhill to take with a moue of disgust, "What a freak. Clean this. Thoroughly." 

~

"Everyone hold the fuck on! The Captain's at the helm!" Jace bellowed, and as the crew scrambled to find things to cling to, Magnus and Alexander huddled together at the bow of the ship, watching excitedly as they came down to land in the waters of the lake. 

"That's probably good advice." Alexander muttered to Magnus as he laughed. 

"Then hold on!" Magnus returned, and they grabbed the railings on either side of the bow, tucked against each together to watch the fast-approaching water. A cry went up from the crew, several men who'd thought they'd grabbed something more stationary than it turned out to be instead desperately clutching at each other as the ship pitched to the left, and Magnus threw his head back against Alexander's shoulder and laughed, the impact of one of the rudders of the ship on the water sending a bump through the whole thing, skipping across the water three times before the nose tilted forward, and for a split second, Magnus and Alexander thought they would be plunged into the depths, the first victims of a disaster. 

Instead, Alexander let out a whoop as a wave of water crashed over the bow, soaking them both, and as Alexander sputtered and laughed with Magnus, they caught sight of the regular helmsman shakily moving back to his post, clinging to the helm as if it were a child that he would never again be parted from, the rest of the crew looking equal parts obliquely thankful to have landed and shell-shocked. 

Convincing their hands to loosen their grips on the railing, Magnus and Alexander turned to each other, neither willing to voice to the other that, really, they didn't want to leave the safety and joy that they'd found on the ship, because neither were brave enough to face the other still wanting to leave. 

Once they'd helped everything settle and had dried off, Isabelle pulled Magnus into a throttling hug, handing him a container of lightning that he had helped capture just the night before. "That's the road you'll need for Wall," Isabelle told them, her heart heavy with the separation, but she knew that she would have to let her brother go, at least for now. "Good luck on your journey home, Alec, wherever that may be," Alexander's eyes flashed, his cheeks colouring slightly, because though they had not talked about how much he wanted to make a home with Magnus, it had been blatant, "and good luck to you, Magnus, with your Camille." 

Magnus flinched, there was no other word for it, at the mention of Camille, and his face fell slightly, going pensive. Grabbing his arm, Isabelle leaned to whisper to him, ignoring Alexander's look of worry on the deck below and her crew's speculative faces. 

Releasing his arm, Isabelle met his gaze as Magnus looked up at her with wide eyes, unsure still, and she winked, "Just think about it." Once they both began the way down the gangplank, and Jace let out a growl of a throat-clear, snapping Isabelle's fearsome reputation back to the forefront of her mind, "Make sure you don't wear that boy out, Captain Magnus!" 

Alexander's shoulders were visibly shaking with his barely-held chuckles, and Magnus shook his head fondly as the crew let out a cheer. Jace rolled his eyes, yet again, and got on with it. 

It wasn't until they were cresting a hill a ways from the lake that Alexander's curiosity got the better of him, "What did Izzy say to you?" 

"Hm? What did she say when?" Magnus asked, only half paying attention for the spiral of thoughts that had consumed him. 

"Just now! When she whispered to you." 

"She--uh, she was just saying we should use the lightning to barter for another Babylon candle." Alexander glanced at him over his shoulder as they continued to climb, the solemn look Magnus had for mentioning Alexander going home grating at Alexander's tender heart. The hope that the solemnity was a sign of a lack of desire to see his promise through was dashed on the rocks that Magnus had a plan to see it through; that there was very little to be done, now, to stop from following the path they had laid out. 

"How many days do we have left?" Alexander asked. Changing his sleep patterns from day to night had messed with his count, if he was being honest, but he figured to have about a week more before the deadline came. 

"Six days. More than enough time, according to Isabelle." Alexander found himself slowing down as they crested the hill properly onto the road, and Magnus took up place beside him, gait easy over the use-hardened dirt. Magnus looked down at himself, his features crumpled with something like sadness, "I can only imagine what they'll say about me now, looking like this...having been here for so long. My father went over for a night." Magnus took a slow breath, shaking his head. 

"What's the big deal about the wall? I mean, I realize that your world isn't...magical, but why have a wall like that at all?" 

"I...I don't know." Magnus hummed, "There are stories, of course; the fair folk coming and stealing children or witches laying curses...Now I'm beginning to wonder if all that wasn't real, and magic was everywhere, once--it just isn't any longer." Magnus narrowed his eyes at Alexander, drawing to a stop to turn to him properly, "Wouldn't you know?" 

Alexander shrugged, "To be honest, I didn't really--I didn't really want to look. For a long time...for a long time, I tried not to look over here, to see the wars, the pain, and...what--what good there is in this world, that I couldn't ever have." Alexander's hazel eyes were intense, and Magnus felt pulled as if the ground had fallen out from beneath him, he wanted so badly to keep Alexander's eyes on him. Alexander was studying him, the same way he had for days; a look of near-disbelief teasing at the edges, "Aren't...aren't you tempted?" 

Magnus tilted his head, drawing closer to Alexander, close enough that they were a breath away from kissing, "Tempted by what?" 

"Immortality...aren't you tempted? If it wasn't me--just some star you didn't know--" 

"Do you really think _I'd_ be capable of killing someone?" Magnus scoffed, drawing back again as Alexander dropped his gaze, and Alexander had trained with Isabelle enough to know that he was glowing again, the fondness--fuck it, he could admit it--the _love_ he had for Magnus lighting him up from within, but he couldn't stop the giggle at the idea of Magnus managing bloodthirsty. "Even if I could...Everlasting life? I'd imagine it'd be kind of...lonely." Magnus's gaze went distant as he imagined it, but in his imaginings, if he were to have everlasting life, it would be by Alexander's side, "Well...maybe if you had someone to share it with, someone you love?" 

The glow was gone with the reminder that Alexander had forever alone, and he intended to deliver the man he loved to a woman who did not deserve him. 

They started walking once more, and Alexander was too wrapped in his grief to notice the way Magnus watched him, eyes careful to memorize every detail. 

~

Valentine crested the hill and caught sight of Captain Serpen's ship anchored in the lake below. "Remember, the Captain has a fearsome reputation." 

Underhill rolled his eyes at that declaration so hard he was surprised he didn't fall off of his horse, and wondered idly if Jace Wayland wasn't still a part of that crew. 

They boarded the ship because the crew let them board, Underhill well knew; and he had a tight twist of amusement to catch sight of the blonde man, his hair nearly white with the sun he got. Jace's light blue-grey eyes flashed at the sight of him, and as music started up from below decks, Underhill let himself smile viciously, a jerk of nod telling Jace all he need know. 

Septemus went alone below, and as the opening strains gained momentum, Jace cocked an eyebrow at the royal guard standing directly across from him, flourishing his hand like the courtier he'd once been before he bowed. 

Underhill wished, in an echo of what his job had been meant to be, that that would not work so well, but as the guards removed their hats, saluted their swords, and swept into bows in unison, he was not surprised it did. Underhill took up the cry with the pirates, recognizing enough of them that when he neglected to bow and attacked his fellows, there wasn't any among them that went for _him_.

The pomp of the song kicked off in earnest as the battle, such as it was, really got its stride, and Underhill couldn't help but laugh.

Below decks, Valentine walked cautiously, the same senses that helped him to see his brothers' tricks and traps perked at the ease with which he and his men had taken the ship. 

A floorboard beneath his boot creaked loudly enough that Valentine knew to dive out of the way of whatever was coming, and the trap that had triggered beneath his foot smashed into the opposite wall. Isabelle Serpens was not some fearsome hag; she was doe-eyed and innocent-looking, wearing a long dress, her long black curls loose, and Valentine abruptly wanted to tear them from her scalp. 

Pushing himself to his feet, Valentine launched himself at her, and Isabelle's dark eyes flew wide, the surprise only lasting until he was within arm's reach before she swung a heavy metal mallet down on his head with a flourish, as if she were a lady playing croquet. 

Barely staying conscious, Valentine managed to twist as he stumbled at the blow, and in twisting he caught her, tearing easily through the skirt of the dress she wore and swinging her into the wall in consequence. 

"You're going to tell me where the girl went--!" Valentine snarled, grabbing for Isabelle's arm and shoving her towards the ornate desk that sat before the bay windows. Isabelle collided with the desk on her hip, hard enough that she let out a hiss, and then her nails bit into Valentine's face, scrabbling for his eyes. 

"HEY!" Seven voices bellowed from the doorway, and it was no longer just Serpens he had to deal with, so Valentine's only option was to crash through the window beside them, and swim for it. 

Jace rushed to Isabelle's side, helping her up properly before she winced at the shift in weight with the bruise she knew was blooming on her hip. He changed course, sitting her in her chair carefully, delivering rapid-fire orders to the others to get her supplies to take care of what turned out to be a gash on her hip, and the ring of a hand-shaped bruise around her upper arm. 

"Did he hurt you, Captain?" Jace asked clearly, pointedly not looking at her torn skirt or the legs bared beneath it. 

Isabelle shook her head, sighing. "No, but I didn't get the information I wanted out of him, either." 

"You didn't tell him the information he wanted. And it looks like you took off a chunk of his scalp." Jace shot back, unhappy with her feeling as if she'd failed. She hadn't intended, he knew, for her to have laid the trap that she'd laid; she'd just wanted to put on a dress, have a dance, and let herself shine, even if only for a song. The traps she put in place before she did this ritual were well-known for the crew, and made to make damn sure none of them saw her glow--even if all of them already had, and none of them for a second had entertained the idea of handing over their captain for the payday of a fallen star. They let her keep her secrets. 

Isabelle cast her eyes around the room, before doing something of a double-take at the royal guard standing among her men. She blinked, and realized who it was. "Underhill!" 

"Hello, Captain." Underhill nodded, opening Isabelle's secret closet and taking out a new dress for her to put on. "Not to be impudent, but pants with a wound like that probably aren't a good idea." 

Isabelle looked from her hip to the proffered red silk, and sighed. "Damn." 

Valentine surfaced from the lake, blood running from his head wound, but he could feel it knitting together, as all his wounds, inexplicably, did. On the shore, he caught sight of the redheaded farm boy astride a horse; seemingly the only horse that the pirates had not already run off. 

"Prince Septemus, your men--they're dead!" The boy reported, and let out a yelp as Valentine shoved him from the steed. 

"Oh, really?" Valentine growled, mounting and turning the horse, urging it towards the road nearest where the ship was anchored--the road to Wall. 

~

"Are you alright?" Magnus asked softly.

"Fine." Alexander answered shortly, hoping that he didn't sound as frustrated as he really felt. 

"Would...Would you tell me more, about your life...up there?" Magnus asked gently, and Alexander's steps faltered, but when he went to continue, Magnus turned to him, looking up at him with kindness. 

"I...What do you want to know?" 

"Isabelle...mentioned that stars choose a weapon to specialize in. Which weapon were you?" 

"Bow and arrow, more specialized than the Orion section. I...I trained in every kind of bow, and in hand-to-hand combat. Most archers...they don't train for hand-to-hand." Magnus smiled at him, and Alexander felt his cheeks heat. 

"But not in a style like Isabelle taught me." 

Alexander wrinkled his nose, "I'm a faster draw than I am a pugilist. She taught you for speed and agility; my training was focused more on power." 

Magnus hummed his understanding, then cast his eyes around, "You've been working on sleeping at night, I know, but do you need a rest now? We have time." 

Alexander looked towards the heavens, and in a rare moment of selfishness, allowed himself what he wanted: time with Magnus, as much as he could get, without continuing their journey onwards. "I'd like that. Should we look for a village?" 

Magnus wrinkled his nose, taking Alexander by the hand unconsciously and leading him off the road, into a copse of trees huddled together on the side of the hill. "I don't trust anyone, I can't risk people seeing you." 

Alexander's heart leapt at the implication that Magnus cared, deeply, for his protection. 

They sat in the semi-privacy that the copse allowed, and Magnus opened the leather satchel he'd been carrying along with the lightning container, producing two packages that Alexander could immediately identify as sandwiches. 

The question of why Magnus still wanted to return to Wall was bubbling beneath Alexander's lips like acid, and he forced it down, trying desperately to think of something to tell Magnus about his home that Magnus would not need context to understand. "It isn't all...fighting." Magnus looked over at him, and he let out a slow breath as if relieved to hear Alexander say that. "Isabelle and I...we used to have fun." 

"You've sounded as though you're closer to her than you were to your other siblings." Magnus noted softly. 

"I was--I am." Alexander licked his lips, steeling himself for the admission. "I didn't want to look down here...for a long time, because looking down here is what prompted Isabelle to want to fall. Love is what made Isabelle want to fall. She wanted to find love." 

"Her men love her." Magnus said before he knew quite what he was saying, and Alexander smiled as if that did help. 

"They do. And she loves them, I know. It's not... _quite_ what she wanted. But I think she's happy." Alexander's eyes went distant, "I looked, sometimes...the only times it was hard for me to look away, was when I caught a glimpse of a love story." 

A soft smile traced Magnus's mouth, and Alexander applied himself to the sandwich, ignoring what he felt for the look in Magnus's dark eyes. "I suppose...I've never gotten to see a real love story. Orphan bastard...and most of the couples in the village seem to loathe each other. Camille could tolerate me, at least, which is better than a lot of the wives I've met." 

Alexander scowled, "You deserve more than being tolerated, Magnus." 

Magnus sighed, "I don't know." 

"I do." Alexander insisted, "You deserve far more than just being tolerated. Magnus, you saved my life. You're--You're kind, and you're smart, and you're funny, and beautiful. If they can't see your worth, then they're blind." Alexander took a shaking breath, catching Magnus's gaze and finding himself unable to look away, despite the embarrassment. "I think I love you, Magnus. It feels like my heart is too big for my chest. Like I can barely contain it, because it doesn't belong to me anymore, Magnus. It belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I'd ask for nothing in exchange...No gifts, no goods, no demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing that you love me, too. Just your heart...in exchange for mine." 

Magnus moved slowly and deliberately, coming to crouch beside Alexander, close enough to touch. Casting his gaze over Alexander's face like he was memorizing it, Magnus cupped one hand over the back of his neck, leaning their foreheads together for a moment before rising to kiss Alexander's brow, his free hand coming to rest on Alexander's shoulder. "Do you want to know what Isabelle really whispered to me?" Alexander could only nod, feeling somehow disconnected from reality. "She told me that my true love was right in front of my eyes...and she was right." 

Alexander felt himself glowing now, the emotions too strong to try to contain them, and Magnus smiled, giving up on his bark of a laugh as Alexander got a handful of his lapel and yanked until their lips met. 

It was a claiming, and an offer; soft and demanding and so good that, had anyone been on the stretch of road where the copse could be seen, they would have been blinded by the light shining from within it. 

Their lips parted, much too soon for Magnus's tastes, and Alexander searched his face for a beat before pulling him back in again. Food forgotten, Magnus wrapped his arms around Alexander's shoulders, biting out a laugh as Alexander's strong hands arranged him so that he was straddling Alexander's lap, their kisses turning more sloppy and breathless by the moment. 

Finally they parted, stealing heady kisses as they did, and Magnus smiled happily, eyes closed for a moment longer before he laid his head on Alexander's shoulder. "I don't know how I got so lucky as to have found you." 

Alexander brushed his lips over Magnus's temple, closing his eyes to bask in the peace of having Magnus in his arms. 

_"Guys, you won't believe this!"_ Tertius stuck his head out of the knot of a tree, and his brothers looked up at him, their boredom plain. 

_"No thank you,"_ Sextus poured thirty years of disgust into his voice, but Quartus didn't have to try so hard to convey his feelings, simply yelling _'Pervert!'_ as Tertius's head disappeared back into the copse of trees the star and the ruby had taken shelter in. 

_"It's so unjust...Septemus will find the boy, get the stone, and rule Edom...forever."_ Secondus whined, though anyone who could see them could easily make the point that his situation was quite easily less-unjust than Primus's, who had disrobed for the bath before his throat had been slit, and now huddled, naked as they day he'd been born, and unable to do anything about it. 

_"At least it means we'll be free."_ Quintus sighed. 

The lovers stumbled from the copse hand-in-hand, and once they were on the road, Alexander wrapped his arm around Magnus's shoulders, pressing another kiss to his temple, and worked very hard not to let his happiness shine out of him. At that point, he would have settled for a glimmer. "Should we turn back, hope that Isabelle hasn't left the lake?" Magnus asked. 

"There is not enough room on that boat." Alexander shook his head, "And besides, I think she'd much prefer it if you and I went to get revenge on the village that wronged you. Show up happy and strong and confident as you are? I think that'd feel pretty good." 

Magnus chuckled. "Isabelle had a taste for revenge, huh?" 

"The subtler forms of it, yes. She got a kick out of watching those kinds of things. Come to think of it, all of my bad habits trace back to her." 

Magnus's laughter was cut short as Alexander went tense, then twisted, half-throwing Magnus off the road as a creature dove from the bushes further down the hill, snarling. 

Alexander impacted the ground hard under the weight of the ravening beast, and Magnus rolled to his feet, the world somehow different to his eyes--and then that took a backseat to the fire roiling around his hands. Instinctively, Magnus waved a hand, and the wolf that was the size of a pony yelped as it was tossed from Alexander, taking a chunk of his shirt with him, but thankfully no skin. 

"Magnus!" Jace yelled, and Magnus whipped around, seeing Jace, and a man dressed in relative finery, running up the road towards them. "Magnus, are you two alright?!" 

The fire is angry, Magnus thought detachedly. It felt like something separate; and as Magnus began to crumple under the weight of trying to hold it back from hurting Jace to stop him from getting any closer; to stop him from proving to really be a threat to Alexander, Alexander twisted and got up, looking up at him with wide, scared eyes--and fire burst out of him, until he didn't stand there any longer. 

~

Isabelle glared between Underhill and Jace, her favourite dagger driven to the hilt into her desk in her anger. "What do you mean, Magnus has magic?" 

"Magnus has magic. We came around the bend in the road, and saw a werewolf attacking Alec. Alec had thrown Magnus out of the way, and when Magnus got to his feet, his eyes were gold and his hands were wreathed in blue flame." Jace repeated more calmly than he felt. 

Alexander sat, head hanging, with Magnus's snowdrop between his fingers. He'd plucked from the verge Magnus had tumbled into; the only thing left of Magnus that he had. 

"Hermano, did you know this?" 

Alexander jerked a shake of the head, and Isabelle took a slow breath. 

"Maryse, before she disappeared, heard rumour of a warlock with the innate ability to deaden the signature of magic around her. No magic could be used directly on her, and she couldn't use magic, but you could use magic in her presence, and it wouldn't show up to Asmodeus's watchers." Underhill murmured. 

Alexander had jerked upright, his red-rimmed eyes burning as he looked at Underhill. "Maryse. When...When Magnus used the Babylon candle and came to me, he'd been meaning to go to Maryse." 

"What? Why?" Isabelle asked, glancing at Underhill's equally confused look. 

"She...he didn't tell me much, but I think she's family, somehow." Alexander pulled a scowl of puzzlement, "He said he was a bastard orphan, but that she and someone named Ragnor were the only family he had left." 

Jace straightened, "Ragnor? He knows both Maryse and Ragnor?!" 

"Or knew." Underhill murmured, "If Magnus travelled to this side of the wall to find Maryse, we can assume she wasn't there for a lot of his upbringing, which means she would be here, which would mean--" 

"She might still be dead." Isabelle finished. "But she might not. And if Ragnor managed to get out, and is on the other side of the wall, then at least we might have one ace up our sleeve with keeping the stone out of Septemus's hands." 

"Stone? You mean this stone?" Alexander asked, plucking up the rock from where it lay still heavy on his chest. 

"Unfortunately, yes." Underhill sighed, then glanced at Isabelle, "Should we really have both the star everyone is hunting and the stone together? This seems like it'd turn out poorly." 

Isabelle waved it away, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples, "Alec, how armed are you right now?" 

"Three knives, and my bow and quiver." Alexander answered immediately. Underhill looked, for a split second, as if he was going to question how Alexander possibly had a quiver, but thought better of it, since Jace looked as though it was to be expected, and he had more experience with fallen stars than Underhill did. 

"If Septemus can get through us, and then get through Alec, then I'd say he's earned it."

Alexander snorted, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the snowdrop. 

"Do you think Magnus knew he had powers?" Isabelle asked the room at large. 

"No," both Jace and Alexander answered at once. 

"I saw his face when it started, Izzy...he was terrified." 

"And when Jace and Underhill were walking towards us--before he disappeared, it looked like he was being tortured. I don't think he had any control. Didn't know...Didn't know what to expect." 

Isabelle's features somehow turned even more grave, "What do you think the chances are...that Lilith will have sensed the power surge, and will have summoned him?" 

"Lilith?" 

"The High Warlock. The top dog, if you will. Because of her position, she demands the allegiance of all warlocks." 

Alexander narrowed his eyes, a creeping dread spreading through him. "What does she look like?" 

"Why?" 

"Because before they used the Babylon candle, there was a warlock trying to cut out Alec's heart." Jace answered as Isabelle smacked her forehead against her desk in defeat, the vibration making the knife still embedded rattle. 

Underhill let out a low whistle, "I need a drink." 

The snowdrop fell to a side table as Alexander sprang to his feet, "If it is Lilith that was trying to kill us in the inn, and she's _summoned_ Magnus--" 

"Alec, breathe." Jace urged. "We're going to figure this out. Just breathe." 

Alexander blinked and looked down at his hands, ringed in the same blue flame that Magnus's had been, and only the fact that it was Isabelle springing to her feet and striding over to him stopped him from flinching away or panicking. 

"You--This is what Magnus's magic looked like?" Isabelle demanded. 

"Yes." All three men answered, and she studied Alexander's hands. 

Alexander tried to match his breathing to Jace's, the pain and fear in his chest not subsiding, but the magic around his hands settling slightly. Isabelle didn't try to touch him, which was for the best, but as Alexander took deliberate breaths, he began to feel the magic. It was not the oppressive heat of the flames that had surrounded them in the inn; it felt like the tingling start of a storm as they'd passed through the outer edges before trying to catch the lightning. It felt _good_. 

"Okay, focus up, hermano, I need you to put the powers away right now. Until we find a warlock who can help us, it's too dangerous to use magic like that. I don't know how the hell you're using Magnus's--" 

"I think I do." Underhill spoke up, his eyes going wide, face pale. He looked up as they all turned to him, and he took a slow breath. "Ragnor told Maryse and I, once, that Asmodeus linked his brothers to the leaders of the other tribes: that the family magic allowed for them to... _feed_ off the power of the creature they were linked to. Ragnor's one of the oldest warlocks out there, he said that the same power had come up before, but it never stayed in a bloodline because the bloodline was never worthy." 

"What, you think that Magnus is feeding off me?" Alexander demanded. 

"No," Isabelle laid a hand on her brother's forearm, and the flames ceased, "you've forged a link. You're connec--Wait. Didn't Asmodeus kill his brothers?" 

"Yes. And when he did, the ones they were linked to died as well." 

Isabelle went from horrified to ferocious in a heartbeat, "We are _not_ losing Alec, or Magnus." 

Underhill nodded gravely, "I'm going to look for Maryse. She spent the most time with Ragnor while we were trying to bind the warlock magic to keep Asmodeus off the scent, she's the only non-warlock I know of to have been told much about their powers. Do any of you know if Catarina is still around?" 

"Yes. She and I write regularly. She's in hiding not far off from Lilith's castle, actually." Isabelle murmured, eyes narrowed as she followed Underhill's line of thinking. 

"Do we bank on Septemus being too distracted in his hunt to give the orders to hunt down any more warlocks using magic?" Jace asked. 

"There is no king at the head of Edom, we're going to have to assume it. Jace, you go to Lucian; tell him what's happening, and that we might well need an army. Isabelle, is there anywhere in that area you could sail to, or do I need to find you and Alec a carriage?" 

Jace looked uneasy being separated from Isabelle; had spent a century protecting her, after she'd saved his life. They weren't in love, but he loved her as a sister enough that he'd pledged his life to protecting her, whether she wanted him to or not. "Alec, no offense, but if I go find Lucian, the ship'll be down a hand, even with you helping. And I think it might be time we found Ragnor." 

~

Heaving a sigh as he stumbled towards his door, Ragnor was ready to kill whomever stood on the other side; his head pounding hard enough that he knew he'd gotten so drunk as to be simultaneously drunk and hungover now. 

Magnus had been missing for more than a week, and Ragnor was heartsick with it. 

The pounding rattled the glass in its frame, and when the ancient guard glared up at him from the other side, Ragnor seriously wondered if a mob of villagers would prove to be his downfall--until he caught sight of Lucian and Jace standing behind him, looking uncomfortable. 

"First the boy's father goes over, then the boy comes through, and now this!" The wheezing shrill grated so hard on his hangover that Ragnor tossed aside the snowdrop, Asmodeus be damned, and the appearance of his horns had a high, squeaking wheeze as the only precursor to the man dropping like a stone in a dead faint. 

"What are you two doing here?" Ragnor groaned. 

"Asmodeus is dead." Lucian reported as Jace carefully set the limp body of old man aside, wince of disgust on his face, "And Magnus's powers have gotten him forcefully summoned to Lilith." 

"He removed the snowdrop?" Ragnor was going to kill that boy, if he survived this. 

"It fell off." Jace replied, brows furrowed, " _That_ was what was keeping his powers dampened? What, did he never take it off?" 

"No. He carried it with him. So long as he carried it, his powers were dormant." 

"Even in the ba--This doesn't matter right now." Jace cut himself off, shaking his head. He was starting to feel every one of the years he spent in service of Isabelle. 

"So long as it was in two feet of him, it would work." Ragnor sighed, squinting as the world started to do a slow spin. "Why are you two here? What's going on? Magnus was summoned to Lilith..." 

"He's accidentally created a bond with a fallen star. Like the ones you told Maryse and Underhill Asmodeus had the power to make, we think." Ragnor's eyes widened, the effect of that knowledge successfully sobering him and bringing the raging headache to the fore. 

"She'll try to siphon Magnus's powers like Asmodeus," Ragnor breathed, grabbing the coat hanging beside the door, heedless that he was otherwise dressed in his nightclothes and hole-filled socks. He dashed into the night with Jace and Lucian on his heels, snowdrop forgotten on the floor of his cottage. 

"Ragnor!" A voice shouted from behind them, the sound of running feet the only thing to turn the trio to whomever it was. 

Simon Lewis's progress stuttered but didn't outright stop, his dark eyes on the horns for only a moment before he was looking at Ragnor directly. "What, Mr. Lewis?" 

"Magnus has been missing--I want to help find him, please." 

Ragnor narrowed his eyes at the young man; knowing that Simon was as close to a friendship as Magnus had had in this vile village. "We're crossing the wall--" 

"I don't care. I just...if he's in trouble, like I think he is, I want to help." 

"Then keep up, we don't have much time." 

~

In the middle of the summoning circle in their once-great hall, Magnus screamed as _something_ felt as if it were scraping him raw, the fire faltering from around him for the sheer amount of pain. 

There was a gleeful shriek of a cackle, and Magnus felt an ire rise within him for a soul who _could_ cause pain like this and delight in it. Something within him eased suddenly, and Magnus fell to the ground as the pain released suddenly, a warmth flooding him that made him think of Alexander. 

Alexander, who had probably been injured; who'd been scared of him, and he hadn't had the chance to try to tell him that he didn't know he had powers like those of the bitch that had tried to kill them--that he wasn't trying to _use_ Alexander, would never dream of it. 

"It's not working!" A voice like the squeal of a knife over a plate protested shrilly, and Magnus tried to summon the strength to bring himself back upright. 

"What do you mean, it's not working?! I stole Asmodeus's spell book myself!" 

"Just...look at him." Magnus opened his eyes, and the silvery glow shining from his skin had him thinking of Alexander just before he passed out. 

~

The pain that had wracked Alexander suddenly, they all knew without giving it voice, originated from Magnus. 

Pale and shaking, Alexander sipped from the wine Isabelle pressed into his hand. He knew she'd dosed it with something to make him sleep, and was willing to play the fool for this, if it meant he didn't have to stay aware of the pain Magnus was in. 

"We're going to get him back, Alec." Isabelle told him, taking his hand, "We'll keep you both safe." 

Alexander closed his blurring eyes in the undertow of the drug, and Isabelle sighed, pushing his hair back from his sweaty brow and rubbing a cool cloth over his face. 

"Boss?" Isabelle turned to Aline Penhallow as she knocked on the door, her swollen belly sending twin twists of joy and concern for her old friend through Isabelle. Her wife, Helen, Isabelle had never met before, but she was proving quickly to be an asset; Aline's stories of her days on the ship enough to be a help, even if it still wasn't enough to compensate for Jace's absence. "I might be able to make him something to try to...numb the bond? So that he can't feel it as harshly? May I take a measurement of his wrist?" 

Aline's powers as a witch would come in handy in the background, Isabelle reminded herself, and they weren't likely to need to worry about those they left on the ship, so she should be safe. Isabelle pulled the hand of Alexander's she still held so that his wrist was exposed, and Aline quickly took the measurement she needed, noting it down. 

"I have...Helen calls it pregnancy brain. So I have to write these things down if I want to remember them properly." Aline smiled, and Isabelle could see how it was said that pregnant women glowed as she laid her hands over her swollen belly. 

Isabelle smiled, "I'm so happy for you, Aline." 

"Thank you, Captain." Aline sat heavily beside Isabelle, wrapping an arm around her, and it was all Isabelle needed for the fear to come pouring out. "It's going to be alright. Your family loves you, Isabelle Serpens, and we will fight for you." Aline pulled Isabelle fully into her arms, letting Isabelle's reputation crack; letting the tears come. 

The ship rocked as if it'd impacted with something, and Isabelle's tears stopped immediately, sharing a look with Aline for just a moment before they were running for the deck together. 

"The Seelies and the fae send their regards, Isabelle!" Jace shouted from the pile of bodies that had landed on deck. 

"You got a Babylon candle from the Seelie Queen? How?!" Isabelle squeaked in her surprise, helping to detangle Jace and Lucian and Ragnor from each other and a stranger she didn't recognize. 

"There is a prophecy, Lady Serpens," the voice had Isabelle whipping around, her eyes wide as she caught sight of Meliorn, royal guard of the Seelie Queen, "if we gain success, Edom would be made safe for us all to return to. The Seelie Queen offers her support." 

Isabelle sighed, taking the stranger's hand and pulling him to his feet before she responded, "I have her word and bond that those she sends will act only under my command?" 

Meliorn visibly fought his smile and bowed, "Yes." 

Isabelle nodded, "Whom does she send?" 

"The guard. We are numbered at twenty. If Lilith raises the army of the dead she once controlled, you will need us." 

Isabelle shared a look with Ragnor, and the old man shrugged, "I accept." 

Folding the politics of the Seelie realm in with Edom once more would be a problem for whoever the hell the new king would turn out to be--and the reminder that they still had Septemus to contend with was an unpleasant one. 

"Ragnor, good to see you again. Who is this?" Isabelle turned to the next thing, cocking her head as she took in a man dressed much like Magnus had, though the quality of the garments were undeniably better. 

"Simon Lewis, C-Captain." The man stuttered, his brown eyes skating over the clouds in a panicked way. 

"Are you scared of heights, Mr. Lewis?" Isabelle did not need this headache. 

Simon drew himself up, setting his features. "No." 

Isabelle cocked a brow, impressed that he was swallowing down the fear. "And what are you?" 

"Human?" Simon answered nervously, and Isabelle couldn't help but smile. "I...I came to help save Magnus. He's in trouble, right?" 

"Oh, yes." Isabelle laughed, "Are you proficient in a weapon?" 

Simon swallowed, "I can use a sword..." 

Isabelle cut her gaze to Ragnor and Jace, "He's too cute to be canon-fodder. Figure it out." 

Isabelle left them to it, wanting to keep eyes on her brother, and so she missed it as Simon turned bright red, gazing after her with wide, nearly love-sick eyes. 

Jace squinted suspiciously at the boy, slapping him on the arm, "C'mon. We need to see how good with a blade you really are." 

The scream from Isabelle's quarters had everyone scrambling, and Isabelle met them in the middle, her eyes huge and her skin pale. "Alec's gone!" 

~

"Damn," Lilith sighed as she strode into the castle, catching sight of both the young warlock and the star in a heap in the middle of their summoning circle, "you summoned him by summoning for that warlock's magic?" 

Her sister, Iris, nodded gravely. 

"If he has warlock magic in him now, it might taint the power from consuming his heart." Lilith seethed. "Why are they still in the circle? Why did you build Asmodeus's power-drain around it? We'll have to draw a new summons now." 

"It was all we could do to keep him in the circle after we'd summoned him." Iris answered, "He nearly killed Agatha. She's still unconscious. I had to call for Ditchwater Sal to contain him." 

"At what _price_?" Lilith hissed; knowing that if Iris had promised her a piece of the power, they would have to follow-through on the deal. 

"No price. What do you take me for! I called for her service as a queen. She's brought her servant girl with her, too." 

"Oh, good. Someone to clean up this hole at last." Lilith snarled. "We have to do it soon; I've trapped that idiot prince in a time loop on the road to Wall, and my magic is wearing thin." 

Unbeknownst to the sisters, Alexander had surfaced from under the fog of the sedative, and reached for Magnus's hand, the spark of blue magic flickering from Alexander's fingertips to Magnus's as he folded their hands together, spreading through Magnus in a warm rush of healing. 

"Either their bond will make the profit of draining them and eating their hearts larger, or it will diminish it; but it's better to have _something_!" Iris reminded her sister as Lilith continued to fret over whether Alexander's heart would be less potent. "And look at them, sister! You said you couldn't get him to shine at all." 

Alexander didn't try to stop the glow, just holding Magnus's hand as his eyes fluttered, close to waking. He wanted to draw Magnus into his arms, wanted to ease him awake gently and kiss away the memory of the pain; but he couldn't afford to give away that he was awake. 

"Show me Agatha, then, Iris--or did you forget that if she dies, we do, too? The slave girl can watch them." 

Alexander heard a bird's chirp, and just glimpsed the swirl of smoky magic as a blue bird transformed into a beautiful, dark-haired woman. The woman met his gaze, but didn't say a thing as the two warlocks left. She held up a finger, the wait clear, and Alexander let himself risk it as Magnus groaned; pulling himself closer to Magnus, holding tight to his hand as golden cat's eyes fluttered open at last. Alexander's breath caught at the beauty of them.

Alexander held a finger to Magnus's lips for silence still, then smiled and pulled it away, stealing a kiss from him instead. Magnus had looked petrified before their lips met, and Alexander tried very hard to exude calm through their bond. 

"Magnus?" The woman spoke at last, and Magnus flinched in Alexander's loose hold, his gaze snapping up to the woman. 

"Maryse..." Magnus gasped sharply as tears filled his eyes. Alexander helped Magnus up, and he and Maryse faced each other on either side of the circle. Maryse's own eyes overflowed, her joy just as prevalent as the pain of seeing Magnus trapped here. 

"Oh, sweetheart." Maryse sighed, shaking her head at the barrier keeping her from hugging her son. "I've missed you so much." 

"I missed you, too." Magnus whispered. Alexander took his hand solidly, and Magnus glanced to him, then back to Maryse, "Alexander, this is Maryse...the closest thing to a mother I've ever had. Mama," Maryse let out a tiny sob at being addressed with the name that Magnus had always used for her, since he first learned to speak, "this is Alexander...the love of my life." 

"It's good to meet you, Alexander." Maryse greeted, still crying around her smile. "I wish we had time for you to tell me this story, Magnus." 

"We will." Magnus breathed his reassurance. "Can you break the circle? That's...how it works, right?" 

"Most circles, yes. But breaking this one would kill you, I'm afraid." Maryse breathed. "My--My father made it to drain the life and power from a warlock. It connects the one within to the one that would absorb the power." 

"So we can't kill them, either." Alexander reasoned softly. 

Maryse shook her head, "No." 

"Of course, that'd be too easy." Magnus sighed. 

Maryse studied the circle, her brows knit. "Stepping out of the circle was the way it would break normally, but they've bound you in the summons. I...I don't know enough about warlock magic to try to separate the two, I'm sorry." 

"Help is coming. Isabelle was gathering an army." 

Magnus looked over at Alexander, smiling softly. "I'm so sorry, Alexander. I wanted so badly to keep you safe--" 

"We'll figure this out." Alexander insisted, pulling Magnus into his side as he looked over at Maryse. "What can you tell us about what they intend to do?" 

Maryse took a slow breath, "You two have created a bond. According to the stories Ragnor told me, because you two are connected, Magnus, you can't pledge your magic to the High Warlock; its allegiance is to Alexander. So instead of demanding you use it for their ends--" 

"They want to strip it from me." Magnus finished. 

"It will kill you." Maryse breathed, pursing her lips against the tears again. "I sent you over the wall as soon as your powers manifested...you're too strong, and I knew that if Lilith and her sisters didn't get you, Asmodeus..." Maryse blinked, shaking her thoughts back, and a piece of hope fell to the forefront. "They tried to pull your powers earlier. But something stopped it." 

"Alexander." Magnus muttered. "I was thinking of Alexander, and...I started shining like he does." 

Maryse opened her mouth, a cunning glint to her eyes, but before she could speak, she was blown backwards, copper fire biting at her hair and her dress as she impacted with the wall behind her and slid to the floor, unconscious. 

"Well, wasn't that sweet?" Lilith simpered with saccharine sweetness, just before all the glass in the castle, all at once, shattered. 

~

"Damn," Meliorn breathed, eyes on the castle as glass rained down, "the other Seelies won't be able to cross through. It's a clever guard." 

Isabelle sighed beside him, and gave Helen the nod to shoot the grappling gun, sending the hook into the rock of the castle with a satisfying crunch, holding fast to anchor the ship to the castle, and give them a way down. 

The ground surrounding the castle, a landscape of what could easily be mistaken for rock, began to shake, green flame teasing along as Iris cast the spell to summon their army of the dead, bones rising obediently. 

"Well, shit." Jace sighed. 

"I have an idea." Simon spoke up as the skeletons rose. "You're lightning-catchers, right?" 

"Yeah..." Isabelle answered as Simon ran below decks, following despite herself. 

"I saw a barrel of lantern oil. Those bones look old enough...they might just burn." 

Simon looked back at Isabelle as he searched through the cargo hold, expecting to be shot down, but only found her grinning. "Do it." 

Simon grinned, the two of them grunting as they hauled the barrel up to the deck. 

"Jace, get a few bolts!" Isabelle ordered. "We're going to light some undead candles!" 

Jace barked a laugh, grabbing Meliorn to help him. 

"This does pose the issue that if they don't completely burn, we'll be fighting undead soldiers _on fire_." Ragnor pointed out. 

"Do not get your logical fears all over my fun, old man." Isabelle giggled, hauling the barrel onto the edge of the railing, looking over at Simon with her wild grin. "Ready?" 

Simon bopped a small nod, looking nervous again, and Isabelle and he grabbed the bottom of the barrel, tipping it over the side, directly onto the skeletons gathering below the ship as if they could somehow climb onto it. 

"Burn, motherfuckers!" Jace screeched gleefully, unleashing the lightning aimed below them as much as it could be aimed. 

Lucian and Ragnor looked at each other, lips pursed with the mixture of frowning and laughing as a roar of flame sent them bobbing upwards with the rush of heat. 

The helmsman was quick, drifting them away from the blaze safely, and the only thing that stopped Lucian and Ragnor from being relieved that there was someone who had some sense was the joyful whoop that the man let out as soon as the burning skeletons could be seen. The bones began to crumble from under them, collapsing under their own weight. 

"Yes!" Simon shouted, pumping his arms, and Isabelle laughed, swinging him into a joyful hug. 

"We're all gonna die." Ragnor sighed, and Lucian finally burst out laughing, unable to keep it down any longer. 

~

Magnus and Alexander shifted, the glass slowly sliding off the bubble of blue flame that had sprung up around them, shielding them. 

"You okay?" Alexander asked sotto-voce, cupping one hand on Magnus's cheek. 

"Yeah." Magnus breathed. They stood up from the huddle they'd pulled each other into as the last of the glass slid to the ground and the shield dropped, casting a look around. 

Lilith, her ruined face bleeding sluggishly, struggled to her feet, glaring at them with such hatred that in her prime they would have died just from that. 

"What gives you the right?" Lilith demanded, shaking as she hobbled towards the spell book laying open on the desk. "The Seelies have not tried to cross into this realm in a millennia, and they would come for you?" Lilith cut her eyes to the page, and Alexander drew a breath as Magnus flinched, ready for the pain of the spell they were trapped in to start once more. 

"Hold me tight and close your eyes, Magnus." Alexander breathed, pulling Magnus in. 

It was a risk, but a calculated one. As Magnus's arms folded around Alexander, he gave in to the joy of knowing that he was loved; that Magnus would choose to spend his life by his side. It was something Alexander had never allowed himself to even acknowledge wanting. Magnus had risked his life, time and again, to save Alexander; and now, it was Alexander's turn to save him. 

"What do stars do?" Alexander breathed into his ear, and Magnus's hands tightened on his back, his face tucking into the crook of Alexander's neck. 

"Shine." 

Lilith screamed in unholy terror as the glow went from overbright to completely blinding, and she threw up the magical shield Alexander had hoped he could force out of her. If he could force her to use the last of her magic, they had a chance of killing her without outright doing it, and maybe that would stop the circle from killing them. He dared to glow brighter, to let himself feel just how good it was to have Magnus in his arms, and Lilith's screams cut off as her magic ran out, and all that was left was ash. 

Magnus's fingers slid along Alexander's nape, and he surfaced from the crook of his neck, eyes open and smiling as he looked up, the shine still bright enough to blind, but Magnus didn't seem to mind it. With reverent fingers, Magnus brushed over Alexander's mouth, rocking in to kiss him softly and leaning their foreheads together as Alexander made the glow abate with the thought that there were still two sisters and someone called Ditchwater Sal to contend with. 

As they properly parted and actually looked around, their breathing caught: there was no circle beneath them anymore, just scorched marble. The smallest tinkle of sound caught Alexander's ear, and he looked over to Maryse where she still lay, watching a silver chain vanish from around her ankle. 

"Magnus?" Alexander asked. Magnus's golden eyes were wide and clear as they met his, and Alexander smiled his relief, the two of them moving to go to Maryse, and relaxing further when they met no resistance from the barrier that had been in place. 

"Maryse?" Magnus asked clearly, plucking bits of glass from her black curls. A spark of Magnus's magic danced from his fingertips to her, and Maryse gasped slightly as she came awake, the magic that had healed her a familiar comfort that she hadn't thought she'd have again. 

"Magnus...?" Maryse shifted, and with help from both men, the three of them got Maryse on her feet, glass-free. Maryse pulled Magnus into a crushing hug the second she saw she could, clinging to him tightly as his arms wrapped around her. 

Alexander turned from the reunion to the sound of running feet towards them, and Isabelle flashed with her joy at seeing them before she got herself under control, casting a glance and a wince in the direction of the others. 

"It's alright, Captain. We've all known for...well, ever." Jace grumbled, rolling his eyes before turning his attention to Alexander, "Are you two okay?" 

"We are." Alexander answered, then gestured to the scorched circle, "I don't understand how we're free, but we're not hurt." 

"What happened?" Maryse asked, walking with Magnus to stand with Alexander and meet the others. Lucian bowed his head to her when she smiled at him, unwilling to let go of the man she considered her son just yet. 

"Lilith used the last of her power trying to shield herself from the shine of a fallen star." Alexander answered, and Isabelle's eyes flew wide. 

"Fuck." Jace intoned, impressed. 

"That was _you_?! I've never...I didn't think we could go that bright after falling!" 

Alexander shrugged a shoulder, "When you find the person that makes you that happy..." 

Magnus's hand slid into his with a smug smile that had Alexander grinning, and Maryse smiled at him, reaching out to pull him into a hug and plant a kiss on his cheek. 

"We got Lilith to use the last of her power, but she was weak already." Alexander elaborated, "She said something about trapping a prince in a time loop on the road to Wall." 

"Fuck." Isabelle's groan had Alexander giving her a confused look, and she sighed, "That would mean that killing Lilith means that Septemus is now free." 

"Fuck." Ragnor, Magnus, Maryse, the ghosts of the slaughtered princes, and Lucian chorused their agreement in unison. 

"I should have killed him while I had the chance." Maryse growled, shaking her head, and Magnus snorted. "He used to like to run with his training blade. I could have just tripped him, just once, and put him out of our misery. But no." 

Lucian and Magnus were outright giggling. 

"Simon Lewis came with us." Ragnor told Magnus, cutting through the hysterics like a hot knife through butter. 

"What? Why the hell--" 

"He was worried, apparently." Ragnor growled, "And _you_ have a lot of explaining to do. A soulbond with a fallen star, Magnus? You have your powers for what, five whole seconds, and _this_ is what you do with them?!" 

Alexander's concern for the berating was fairly wiped away as Magnus began to shake in his arms, silent laughter just barely held back. 

"I missed you, Ragnor." Maryse murmured fondly, and Magnus's laughter burst. 

~

The bought out the inn in the nearest town; most of their party still singing baudy drinking songs at the bar downstairs loudly enough for them to be able to hear it as Alexander pushed Magnus through the door to the room they'd summarily decided they'd share. 

Kissing Magnus was a revelation to Alexander, and they laughed into each other's mouths as they stumbled through the doorway and towards the bed, Alexander's kick to the door to close it behind them slamming it maybe a little too hard, if the pause in rowdy singing was anything to go by. 

Magnus pulled back, hands on Alexander's shoulders as he looked up at him, the beauty of him indescribable for Alexander. "I love you, Alexander." 

"I love you, too." Alexander grinned, threading his fingers in Magnus's hair, pulling his mouth back to his. 

Magnus pinched his hip, and Alexander released him, looking playfully chastised. Magnus grinned, leaning into Alexander, but keeping from kissing him again, "There are things we need to talk about, my love." 

Alexander nodded once, petting through Magnus's hair now, "My being here...it's a danger to you." 

"Do you still want to go home?" Magnus asked at the same time, their words colliding in the air between them. Magnus pulled back to look at Alexander with every inch of seriousness he had in him, "I will keep you safe, Alexander." 

"No, I know," Alexander breathed, setting aside the tumult of emotions in his chest at Magnus's question, "but I don't want you to...to be in danger, because of me. I can't risk you, Magnus." 

Magnus closed his eyes as Alexander kissed his forehead. "You kept me from being stripped of my magic and my life, Alexander." Magnus reminded softly as Alexander tightened his hold and leant their foreheads together, "I have never felt safer than I do in your arms." 

Alexander drew in a sharp breath, his palm cupped on Magnus's cheek, and as Magnus leaned into that point of connection, he fell all the harder in love. "I am home, Magnus." Alexander whispered, his lips brushing Magnus's with every syllable. "Anywhere you want to be is my home." 

Magnus hummed, his fingers tracing along the chain of the necklace, "Whatever it was, that...that destined you to be hit by this? I owe it everything there is in any world." Alexander snorted, kissing the line of Magnus's cheekbone. 

"I do, too." Alexander reached back, undoing the clasp around the back of his neck to let the stone fall into Magnus's palm, and Magnus tossed it aside immediately, hands slipping beneath Alexander's shirt and drawing it up, the act of them trying to undress clumsy and stuttered, but full of shared laughter and luxurious kisses. 

Alexander let Magnus tumble them into the bed once their boots and socks gone along with his shirt, and smirked at Magnus's impressed look at the act of grace that saved any limbs from disastrously colliding. 

Alexander's fingers sent warmth through Magnus as they drew over his back, his shirt bunching at the progress Alexander made, until Magnus had to sit back, drawing it off entirely and tossing it away with a grin. 

Alexander's hands were greedy, the warm grip of them on Magnus's hips breaking a desperate whine from his throat as Alexander rolled his own hips up. 

Lowering himself against Alexander, Magnus sucked a line of kisses over the arch of his pale throat, fumbling for the fastenings of Alexander's pants as he bit at the crest of Alexander's collarbone. 

The impact of someone arriving via Babylon candle was enough to startle them apart, and Magnus was glad of it the second he realized who the tall, black-clad man had to be as he snarled at them. Magnus slid from the bed, grabbing up his sword, and blocking Septemus's wild swing for Alexander as Alexander rolled off the other side of the bed. 

"You think you can beat me in a fight?" Septemus snarled, and Magnus shoved him back, making damn sure he knew Magnus was the threat to be reckoning with first. 

"I think," Magnus grunted as their swords clashed again, the rage of the seventh prince lending him a strength that Magnus knew was inhuman, "that if you try to touch him again, I'll do more than beat you." 

Alexander's breath caught as the room around them drained of the light from the candles, the prince appearing to grow in size as the light guttered. His jagged, snarling teeth connected the dots for Alexander, and his bow was in his hands in a shower of blue sparks, arrow nocked already. 

The man before them wasn't fully one of the creatures of darkness that Alexander had been fighting for his whole life; but something...infected, by that darkness. Alexander took aim as Magnus began to push him back, heedless of the writhing shadows that dropped from the man as he did. Alexander shot the first shadow that dove for Magnus, a protective fire swamping out everything else. In rapid succession, Alexander took out four more, and Magnus twirled his blade against Septemus's, the momentum of it allowing Magnus to knock the blade into the ground hard enough for it to stick. Magnus kicked viciously, the impact of his foot on Septemus's chest sending the man falling through the door in a crash of splintered wood. 

The shadows turned their attentions from Magnus to Alexander, and he dropped his bow, pulling a blade that lit up in his hand with starlight as if it was actually his. The party downstairs was coming, and Alexander had to hope Isabelle would be able to keep the shadows off Magnus's back while he was driving off those going after him. 

The crack of her whip was a welcome sound, and Magnus let out a vicious groan, the impact of the a blade dropped sending Alexander's heart to his throat before the flash of starlight drew his eyes once more. Magnus hefted his sword, wreathed in starlight as Alexander's dagger was, and plunged it into Septemus's chest to the hilt, the wash of starlight burning through the writhing shadows easily as their master died. 

Alexander stumbled towards Magnus, pulling him into his arms tightly. "Are you okay?" 

Magnus nodded into his shoulder, clinging to him. Isabelle and Lucian drew up closer; Lucian watching, fascinated, as Septemus's body drained of the darkness that had been operating it; leaving an empty husk and black leather behind. 

"Meliorn, not for nothing," Isabelle growled, "but if I find out that the Babylon candle he used to get here was given to him by the Seelie queen, you and I are going to throw down, because I am going to kill her for trying to kill my brother." 

"Understood." Meliorn intoned from further down the hall. 

Isabelle turned to Alexander and Magnus, eyes raking over them before she turned terrifyingly gleeful, "And _what_ were you two doing? It's too early for you to being going to sleep _already_." 

Magnus gave her a rude hand gesture, and she threw her head back, laughing. "We were about to be doing each other. And now we don't have a door." Magnus sighed. 

"Oh, pity that. You two won't get to defile each other while I'm under the same roof." Isabelle rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. "Where'd your accessory go, Alec? Septemus is dead, so we might actually be able to get rid of it if you want." 

Magnus turned his head to where he'd thrown the damn thing, and caught sight of the edge of the chain from under a dresser. Picking it up, Isabelle audibly gasped at the sight of the stone. The stone which had turned red. 

Maryse pushed past the others, eyes on the jewel, "You're the last male of the imperial line. My son, by bond. The new King of Edom." 

Magnus looked over at Alexander, his eyes wide, and found Alexander _grinning_ back at him, "Maybe my being here won't pose so much of a threat, after all." 

~

The coliseum was packed, five levels of cheering citizens welcoming their new king and his consort. 

Magnus looked over at Alexander, taking in the dark blue Maryse had insisted he wear; the silvery-white fur that lined the cape Alexander was visibly itching to take off just barely proving that blue not to truly be black. 

The crown of the consort was already on Alexander's head as Underhill, as prince of the fae and voted representative of the parliament of Edom's creatures, stepped forward to place Magnus's crown on his head. 

It was not the crown that Asmodeus had worn; as Magnus Bane would never prove to be the king that Asmodeus had been. His kindness and forthright nature lent him the kind of strength that could not be stolen or destroyed. 

As the golden circlet settled on Magnus's head, the six ghosts exchanged looks; only relieved that Septemus had had no soul to come join their number, and that, with the throne now filled, they were finally free. 

Underhill stepped alongside the new Seelie queen, Lucian as leader of the were-creatures, Catarina Loss as leader of the warlocks, Aline Penhallow as the face for the witches, and the vampire representative known only as Fairchild. 

In the front row of seats, Isabelle sat in a dress of golden feathers, Simon sitting next to her, and her crew scattered around them. Behind them, as Magnus watched, Underhill caught the eye of Lorenzo Rey and winked, Lorenzo lighting up from beside Camille, much to her abject displeasure. Alexander snorted from beside him, and Magnus looked over, sharing the laugh. 

The ring on the hand of Alexander's that Magnus was holding was a greater comfort than Magnus could admit; the idea of ruling both exhilarating and daunting. Isabelle very deliberately caught Magnus's eye, inclining her head, and Magnus made a fist with his free hand, the pirates giving the answering growl-cheer that accompanied the gesture. 

Maryse stepped up, shaking her head and laughing under her breath at the antics, and Magnus knew that she hated the princess regalia she had been coerced into just as much as Alexander hated the regalia she had coerced him into. Maryse offered a sturdy box of gold and ivory to Alexander, giving a tiny wink, "My gift to you both." 

Alexander opened the box, and huffed a laugh, tilting the box towards Magnus when he looked over. 

Laid in blue silk, a Babylon candle sat, ready for the possibility that Alexander and Magnus might one day choose to go. 

Alexander and Magnus ruled for over one-hundred years. When it came to be noticed that Magnus, despite learning and using his magic freely, did not run out of power, nor age at its use, it had sent Jace into a paroxysm of laughter so intense he'd actually fallen over, because he was supposed to be human, but serving on Isabelle's crew had granted him enough of her heart that he hadn't aged a day in more than a century, and Isabelle had had no idea. 

Time passed; and Magnus built Edom as a world he would want to live in, beckoning magic back into the world and settling it as if it'd never gone. 

When their children and grandchildren had grown, Alexander and Magnus made the choice to leave; posing a challenge to their heirs to prove themselves brave and just, for those they ruled to be able to believe in them, as the kingdom had come to believe in Magnus. 

And they still live, together and in love: the next time you go stargazing, you might just see them.

**Author's Note:**

> This kicked my fucking ass. I need like a gallon of vodka and a goddamned nap.


End file.
